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I 


Friars«»"  Filipinos 


AN  ABRIDGED  TRANSLATION  OF 

DR.  JOSE  RIZAL'S 


Tagalog  Novel,  *'Noli  Me  Tangere. 


BY 

FRANK  ERNEST  GANNETT. 


NEW  YORK: 
THE  ST.  JAMES  PRESS. 


^^^.  *v 


Copyright,  1900V 

by 

FRANK  ERNEST  GANNETT. 


MENRY  MORSE  STEPHEf» 


TO 

Jacob  Gould  Schurman, 

Prwidcnt  of  Cornell  Uoivertity. 


511002 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arcinive 

in  2008  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/friarsfilipinosOOrizarich 


PREFACE. 


While  serving  on  the  staff  of  the  first  United  States 
Commission  to  the  Philippine  Islands  my  attention  was 
called  to  the  life  and  writings  of  Dr.  Jose  Rizal.  I  found 
in  his  novel,  "Noli  Me  Tangere,"the  best  picture  of  the  life 
of  the  people  of  those  islands  under  Spanish  rule,  and  the 
clearest  exposition  of  the  governmental  problems  which 
Spain  failed  to  solve,  and  with  which  our  own  people  must 
deal.  It  occurred  to  me  that  an  English  translation  of 
RizaPs  work  would  be  of  great  value  at  the  present  time. 
My  first  intention  was  to  reproduce  the  entire  novel  as  it 
was  written,  but,  after  careful  consideration,  I  thought 
best  to  abridge  the  story  by  the  omission  of  some  parts 
which  did  not  seem  essential  to  the  main  purpose  of  the 
work.     The  present  volume  is  the  result. 

Readers  should  not  understand  any  of  Rizal's  references 
to  priests  and  friars  as  reflections  upon  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  He  was  throughout  his  life  an  ardent  Catholic, 
and  died  a  firm  adherent  of  the  Church.  But  he  objected 
to  the  religious  orders  in  the  Philippine  Islands,  because 
he  knew  well  that  they  were  more  zealous  in  furthering 
their  own  selfish  ends  than  in  seeking  the  advancement 
of  Christianity.  From  experience.  Dr.  Rizal  knew  that 
the  friars,  under  cloak  of  the  gospel  ministry,  oppressed 
his  fellow  countrymen,  and  took  advantage  of  their  super- 
stition and  ignorance.  These  wrongs  he  was  brave  enough 
to  expose  in  his  writings.  In  the  friars  he  saw  an  obstacle 
to  the  education  and  enlightenment  of  the  Filipino  people. 


Yi  Preface. 

and,  using  moderate  means,  he  did  his  utmost  to  secure 
reform.  His  writings  will  explain  to  us  the  cause  of  the 
hatred  shown  by  the  Filipinos  toward  the  religious  cor- 
porations, and  will  make  clearer  the  nature  of  one  of  the 
present  problems  in  the  Philippines. 

There  are  in  the  Philippines  five  religious  orders:  the 
Dominicans,  Franciscans,  Recoletos,  Augustines  and  Jesuits. 
'According  to  John  Foreman,  an  eminent  authority,  the 
members  of  all  of  these,  except  the  last  named,  come  from 
the  lower  classes  in  Spain,  and  are  on  the  whole  com- 
paratively ignorant  and  uncultured.  Under  the  Spanish 
system  of  government  certain  provinces  were  assigned 
to  each  of  the  orders — except  the  Jesuits — and  the  friars 
were  distributed  among  the  different  parishes.  In  the 
town  assigned  to  him  the  friar  had  much  authority.  He 
was  chief  adviser  in  all  civil  affairs,  and,  by  his  influence 
over  the  superstitious  natives,  maintained  absolute  con- 
trol in  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  local  government  as 
well  as  to  the  local  church.  So  firm  was  his  hold  that  he 
led*  the  Spanish  government  to  believe  that  the  islands 
could  not  be  ruled  without  his  aid.  Knowing  that  his  power 
rested  on  the  ignorance  of  the  people  he  discouraged  edu- 
cation among  them.  When  native  Filipinos  advanced 
so  far  as  to  prove  an  obstacle  to  the  religious  orders,  as  did 
Rizal  and  many  others,  the  friars  sought  to  destroy  them. 
Forgetting  their  holy  mission,  the  religious  orders  became 
commercial  corporations,  amassed  enormous  wealth,  and 
gained  possession  of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  the  islands, 
though  to  much  of  this  property  the  titles  are  not  clear. 

From  my  own  observation,  and  from  information  derived 
from  the  Spaniards  themselves,  I  am  convinced  that  the 
author  has  not  overdrawn  his  pictures.  In  fact  I  have 
learned  of  instances  where  the  oppression  and  practices  of 
the  friars  were  even  worse  than  those  described.    Dr. 


Preface.  vii 

Eizal  has  given  us  a  portrayal  of  the  Filipino  character 
from  the  viewpoint  of  the  most  advanced  Filipino.  He 
brings  out  many  facts  that  are  pertinent  to  present-day 
questions,  showing  especially  the  Malayan  ideas  of  venge- 
ance, which  will  put  great  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the 
pacifying  of  the  islands  by  our  forces.  The  reader  will 
not  fail  to  notice  the  striking  similarity  between  the  life 
of  Ibarra,  the  hero,  and  that  of  Rizal,  the  author,  a  short 
sketch  of  whose  career  has  been  given  in  the  following 
pages. 

For  assistance  in  preparing  this  volume  for  publication 
I  offer  sincere  thanks  to  William  H.  Glasson,  Ph.D.,  In- 
structor in  History  in  the  George  School,  Newtown,  Pa. 
Dr.  Glasson  has  read  the  entire  manuscript  and  proofs, 
and  I  have  been  glad  to  avail  myself  of  his  advice  on  many 
doubtful  points.  I  desire  also  to  acknowledge  my  indebted- 
ness for  favors  received  to  Horatio  Green,  Interpreter  to 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  Philippine  Islands,  to  W.  G. 
Richardson,  of  New  York,  and  to  the  publishers. 

F   E    G 

Ithaca,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  1,  1900. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Don  Santiago's  Dinner 1 

CHAPTER    n. 
At  the  Dinner  Table 11 

CHAPTER   III. 
Heretic  and  Revolutionist 16 

CHAPTER   rV. 
Captain  Tiago 5J8 

CHAPTER  V. 
An  Idyl  on  the  Azotea 29 

CHAPTER   VI. 
Things  Philippine 86 

CHAPTER  VII. 
San  Diego  and  Its  People 40 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Ibarra  and  the  Grave-Digger 47 

CHAPTER   IX. 
Adventures  of  a  School  Teacher 51 

CHAPTER  X. 
Lights  and  Shadows •••••• 67 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Fishing  Party 59 

CHAPTER  XII. 
In  the  Woods 08 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
In  the  House  of  Tasio 77 


The  Eve  of  the  Fiesta, 


Contents. 

CHAPTER  XIV.  pAo« 


CHAPTER  XV. 
As  Night  Comes  On 87 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  Hoisting  Crane 92 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
The  Banquet 104 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  First  Cloud 112 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
His  Excellency 116 

CHAPTER  XX. 
The  Procession 125 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Dofia  Consolacion 129 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Might  and  Right 187 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Two  Visitors 145 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Episode  in  Espadafia's  Life 148 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Schemes 161 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
The  Persecuted 165 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
The  Cock  Fight 173 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
The  Two  Senoras 181 


Contents.  xi 

CHAPTER  XXIX.  ,.AaE 

The  Enigma 188 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
The  Voice  of  the  Persecuted 191 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
Elias's  Family 200 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
Changes 207 

CHAPTER  XXXin. 
Playing  Cards  with  the  Shades 211 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
The  Discovery 217 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
The  Catastrophe 223 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
What  People  Say  and  Think 229 

CHAPTER  XXXVH. 
Vae  Victis! 285 

CHAPTER  XXXVm. 
The  Accursed 244 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
Maria  Clara  is  Married 248 

CHAPTER  XL. 
The  Pursuit  on  the  Lake 259 

CHAPTER  XLI. 
Father  Damaso  Explains 267 

EPiLOaUB 271 


JOSE  RIZAL. 

Dr.  Jose  Rizal,  of  whose  "Noli  Me  Tangere/'  the 
following  story,  is  an  abridgement,  is  the  most  striking 
character  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  the  Philippine 
Islands.  He  was  not  only  a  great  martyr  to  the  cause  of 
liberty,  and  to  the  advancement  of  his  fellow  men,  but  he 
was  without  doubt  the  greatest  Filipino  ever  bom,  and  his 
memory  is  cherished  to-day  by  his  people  as  we  ourselves 
cherish  the  memory  of  Washington. 

Eizal  was  bom  on  June  19th,  1861,  in  the  pueblo  of 
Calamba,  in  the  province  of  Laguna,  on  the  Island  of 
Luzon.  He  came  of  a  Tagalog  family,  which,  it  is  said,  ac- 
knowledged a  slight  mixture  of  Chinese  blood,  and  pos- 
sessed considerable  property.  As  a  child  he  gave  evi- 
dence of  extraordinary  precocity.  He  is  said  to  have 
written  poetry  in  his  native  tongue  at  eight  years  of  age, 
produced  a  successful  melodrama  at  fourteen,  and  later 
to  have  won  prizes  in  literary  contests  with  writers  of 
recognized  ability. 

After  passing  through  the  University  of  Manila,  and 
receiving  much  instmction  at  the  hands  of  the  Jesuit 
fathers,  he  was  sent  to  Europe  to  complete  his  education. 
He  pursued  courses  of  study  in  Spanish  and  Geraaan 
universities,  and  won  the  degrees  of  Doctor  of  Medicine 
and  Doctor  of  Philosophy.  Besides  acquiring  a  knowl- 
edge of  seven  languages  he  gained  a  brilliant  reputation 
for  proficiency  in  the  branch  of  optical  surgery.  For  a 
time  he  was  the  leading  assistant  in  the  office  of  a  world- 
renowned  specialist  at  Vienna. 

While  in  Europe  Rizal  wrote  several  books  and  also 


xiv  Jos6   Rizal. 

gave  considerable  time  to  sculpture  and  painting.  His 
artistic  ability  was  great,  and  some  of  his  productions 
are  now  treasured  by  friends  into  whose  possession  they 
came.  EizaFs  best  known  work  is  his  "Noli  Me  Tan- 
gere/'  written  in  Belgium  about  1886  or  1887.  This 
novel,  with  its  vivid  picture  of  life  in  the  Philippines, 
and  its  exposure  of  Spanish  misrule  and  oppression, 
won  for  him  the  bitter  hatred  of  the  friars,  and  inspired 
the  relentless  persecution  which  only  ended  with  the  tak- 
ing of  his  life. 

In  1889  Dr.  Eizal  returned  to  the  Philippines,  but 
was  soon  compelled  to  leave  his  native  land  in  order  to 
escape  forcible  banishment.  After  a  short  residence 
in  Japan,  he  went  to  London,  where  he  published  a  work 
on  the  History  of  the  Philippine  Islands.  About  the 
same  time  a  sequel  to  "Noli  Me  Tangere,"  entitled  "El 
Filibusterismo,"  was  published.  The  hatred  of  the  priests 
against  him  was  further  inflamed  by  this  production, 
and  the  government  in  Manila  was  forced  by  the  friars 
to  forbid  the  circulation  of  any  of  his  writings.  Copies 
of  his  novels  were  burned  in  the  public  squares,  and  it 
was  worth  one's  life  to  be  found  possessing  a  copy.  Until 
very  recently  it  has  been  almost  impossible  to  obtain  a 
copy  of  RizaFs  works,  and  it  was  necessary  to  go  to 
Europe  to  secure  the  one  from  which  the  following 
abridged  translation  was  made. 

In  1893  Dr.  Rizal  was  so  overcome  with  a  desire  to 
see  again  his  beautiful  fatherland  that  he  ventured,  in 
the  face  of  all  the  dangers  that  threatened  him,  to  return 
to  Manila.  He  had  scarcely  set  foot  on  shore,  however, 
before  he  was  arrested  and  thrown  in  prison.  The  friars 
demanded  his  execution  on  the  groumd  that  he  carried 
incendiary  leaflets  for  the  purpose  of  stirring  up  a 
rebellion,  but  subsequent  inquiries  showed  that  such  Imi- 


Jose   Rizal.  xv 

lets  had  been  introduced  into  his  baggage  at  the  custom 
house  through  the  intrigues  of  the  Augustine  friars.  De- 
spite his  indignant  protestations  of  innocence ;  Rizal  was 
summarily  condemned  by  the  Spanish  General,  Despujols, 
to  banishment  at  Dapitan  in  the  island  of  Mindanao.  Al- 
though the  trickery  of  the  friars  became  known  to  him, 
Despujols  lacked  courage  to  revoke  his  order  of  banishment, 
for  fear  that  he,  too,  would  incur  the  hatred  of  the  power- 
ful religious  corporations. 

After  four  years  of  exile  Rizal  saw  plainly  that  the  hos- 
tility of  the  friars  would  make  it  impossible  for  him  to 
live  in  his  native  land.  In  1896  a  plague  of  yellow  fever 
broke  out  in  the  island  of  Cuba  and  Rizal  volunteered  to 
lend  his  medical  services  to  the  Spanish  government. 
Ramon  Blanco,  then  general-in-chief  of  the  Spanish  forces 
in  the  Philippines,  accepted  the  generous  offer  and  recalled 
the  young  man  to  Manila  that  he  might  sail  at  once  tor, 
Cuba.  Alarmed  by  demonstrations  of  popular  affection 
for  Rizal,  who  represented  the  aspirations  of  the  Filipino 
people,  the  Spanish  authorities  broke  faith  with  him  and 
imprisoned  him  in  the  Fuerza  de  Santiago.  He  was  ar- 
raigned on  false  charges,  given  a  military  trial,  and  at 
the  dictation  of  the  religious  orders  was  sentenced  to  be 
shot  as  a  traitor. 

At  dawn  on  December  30th,  1896,  he  was  led  to  the  place 
of  execution  on  the  beautiful  Luneta,  overlooking  the  tran- 
quil surface  of  Manila  Bay.  Notices  of  the  event  had  been 
published  throughout  the  islands  and  the  day  on  which  it 
was  to  occur  was  proclaimed  a  fiesta.  Thousands  gathered 
around  the  place  selected,  and  so  evident  was  the  sympathy 
of  the  helpless  Filipinos  for  the  man  who  was  to  die  for 
their  sake  that  Spain  marshalled  ten  regiments  of  her  sol- 
diers about  the  spot.  The  populace  must  be  intimidated. 
A  nation's  hero  was  about  to  become  a  nation's  martyr. 


:nri  Jose   Rizal. 

.With  face  uplifted  he  glanced  at  the  multitude  about  him 
and  smiled.  They  tied  his  arms  behind  him  and  made  him 
face  the  waters  of  the  bay.  In  vain  he  protested  and 
begged  that  he  might  die  facing  his  executioners.  A  squad 
of  his  fellow  countrymen,  who  were  serving  in  Spain's 
army,  were  selected  for  the  bloody  work.  They  drew  i  i 
position  to  shoot  him  in  the  back.  The  order  was  given 
to  fire,  but  only  one  had  the  courage  to  obey.  The  bullet 
went  straight  and  the  hero  fell,  but  another  shot  was  nec- 
essary to  despatch  his  life.  His  newly  wedded  wife  re- 
mained with  him  to  the  end.  The  best  hope  of  the  Filipino 
people  was  crushed ;  a  light  in  a  dark  place  was  snuffed  out. 

Eizal  was  no  extremist,  no  believer  in  harsh  and  bloody 
methods,  no  revolutionist.  He  aimed  to  secure  moderate 
and  reasonable  reforms,  to  lessen  the  oppressive  exactions 
of  the  friars,  to  examine  into  titles  of  their  land,  and  to 
make  possible  the  education  and  uplifting  of  his  people. 
He  loved  Spain  as  he  did  his  own  country,  and  repeatedly 
used  his  influence  against  the  rebellious  measures  pro- 
posed by  other  Filipino  leaders.  His  execution  was  only 
one  of  the  numerous  outrages  which  characterized  Spain's 
reign  in  the  Philippines. 

In  closing  this  short  sketch  of  Eizal's  life  we  can  do  no 
better  than  to  quote  the  estimate  of  him  made  by  Dr. 
Ferdinand  Blumentritt,  professor  in  the  University  of 
Leitmeritz,  Austria,  who  prepared  a  biographical  sketch 
of  Rizal.     Dr.  Blumentritt  said: 

"Not  only  is  Rizal  the  most  prominent  man  of  his  own 
people,  but  the  greatest  man  the  Malayan  race  has  pro- 
duced. His  memory  will  never  perish  in  his  fatherland, 
and  future  generations  of  Spaniards  will  yet  learn  to  utter 
his  name  with  respect  and  reverence,'^ 


•      '    >  '  »  a  » 1  •    »        "  '       J      J  ' 


FRIARS  AND  FILIPINOS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
DON  Santiago's  dinner. 

In  the  latter  part  of  October,  Don  Santiago  de  los 
Santos,  popularly  known  as  Captain  Tiago,  gave  a  din- 
ner. Though,  contrary  to  his  custom,  he  had  not  an- 
nounced it  until  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  it 
was  to  occur,  the  dinner  became  at  once  the  absorbing 
topic  of  conversation  in  Binondo,  in  the  other 
suburbs  of  Manila,  and  even  in  the  walled  city.  Cap- 
tain Tiago  was  generally  considered  a  most  liberal  man, 
and  his  house,  like  his  country,  shut  its  doors  to  no  one, 
whether  bent  on  pleasure  or  on  the  development  of  some 
new  and  daring  scheme. 

The  dinner  was  given  in  the  captain's  house  in  Ana- 
loague  street.  The  building  is  of  ordinary  size,  of  the 
style  of  architecture  common  to  the  country,  and  is 
situated  on  that  arm  of  the  Pasig  called  by  some  Bi- 
nondo Creek.  This,  like  all  the  streams  in  Manila,  sat- 
isfies a  multitude  of  needs.  It  serves  for  bathing,  mor- 
tar-mixing, laundering,  fishing,  means  of  transporta- 
tion and  communication,  and  even  for  drinking  water, 
when  the  Chinese  water-carriers  find  it  convenient  to 
use  it  for  that  purpose.  Although  the  most  important 
artery  of  the  busiest  part  of  the  town,  where  the  roar 
of  commerce  is  loudest  and  traffic  most  congested,  the 
stream  is,  for  a  distance  of  a  mile,  crossed  by  only  one 
wooden  bridge.  During  six  months  of  the  year,  one  end 
of  this  bridge  is  out  of  order,  and  the  other  end  is  im- 
passable during  the  remaining  time. 

The  house  is  low  and  somewhat  out  of  plumb.    No  one. 


2  Frj^rs^  ^nd  Filipinos. 

however,  knows  whether  the  faulty  lines  of  the  building 
are  due  to  a  defect  in  the  sight  of  the  architect  who  con- 
structed it,  or  whether  they  are  the  result  of  earth- 
quakes and  hurricanes. 

A  wide  staircase,  with  green  balustrades  and  car- 
peted here  and  there  in  spots,  leads  from  the  zaguan,  or 
tiled  entrance  hall,  to  the  second  story  of  the  house. 
On  either  side  of  this  staircase  is  a  row  of  flower-pots 
and  vases,  placed  upon  chinaware  pedestals,  brilliant  in 
coloring  and  fantastic  in  design.  Upstairs,  we  enter 
a  spacious  hall,  which  is,  in  these  islands,  called  caida. 
This  serves  to-night  for  the  dining  hall.  In  the  middle 
of  the  room  is  a  large  table,  profusely  and  richly  orna- 
mented, fairly  groaning  under  the  weight  of  delicacies. 

In  direct  contrast  to  these  worldly  preparations  are 
the  motley  colored  religious  pictures  on  the  walls — such 
subjects  as  ^Turgatory,''  "Hell,"  "The  Last  Judgment,'' 
"The  Death  of  the  Just,"  and  "The  Death  of  the  Sin- 
ner." Below  these,  in  a  beautiful  renaissance  frame,  is 
a  large,  curious  linen  engraving  of  two  old  ladies.  The 
picture  bears  the  inscription  "Our  Lady  of  Peace,  Pro- 
pitious to  Travellers,  Venerated  in  Antipolo,  Visiting  in 
the  Guise  of  a  Beggar  the  Pious  Wife  of  the  Famous 
Captain  Ines  in  Her  Sickness."  In  the  side  of  the  room 
toward  the  river.  Captain  Tiago  has  arranged  fantastic 
wooden  arches,  half  Chinese,  half  European,  through 
which  one  can  pass  to  the  roof  which  covers  part  of  the 
first  story.  This  roof  serves  as  a  veranda,  and  has  been 
illuminated  with  Chinese  lanterns  in  many  colors  and 
made  into  a  pretty  little  arbor  or  garden.  The  sola  or 
principal  room  of  the  house,  where  the  guests  as- 
sembled is  resplendent  with  colossal  mirrors  and  bril- 
liant chandeliers,  and,  upon  a  platform  of  pine,  is  a 
costly  piano  of  the  finest  workmanship. 

People  almost  filled  this  room,  the  men  keeping  on  one 
side  and  the  women  on  the  other,  as  though  they  were 
in  a  Catholic  church  or  a  synagogue.  Among  the  wo- 
men were  a  number  of  young  girls,  both  native  and 
Spanish..  Occasionally  one  of  them  forgot  herself  and 
yawned,  but  immediately  sought  to  conceal  it  by  cov- 
ering her  mouth  with  her  fan.     Conversation  was  car- 


Don  Santiago's  Dinner.  3 

ried  on  in  a  low  voice  and  died  away  in  vague  mono- 
syllables, like  the  indistinct  noises  heard  by  night  in  a 
large  mansion. 

An  elderly  woman  with  a  kindly  face,  a  cousin  of 
Captain  Tiago,  received  the  ladies.  She  spoke  Spanish 
regardless  of  all  the  grammatical  rules,  and  her  cour- 
tesies consisted  in  offering  to  the  Spanish  ladies  cigar- 
ettes and  betel  nut  (neither  of  which  they  use)  and  in 
kissing  the  hands  of  the  native  women  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  friars.  Finally  the  poor  old  lady  was  com- 
pletely exhausted,  and,  taking  advantage  of  a  distant 
crash  occasioned  lay  the  breaking  of  a  plate,  hurried  off 
precipitately  to  investigate,  murmuring:  Jesus!  Just 
wait,  you  good-for-nothings!" 

Among  the  men  there  was  somewhat  more  animation. 
In  one  corner  of  the  room  were  some  cadets,  who  chatted 
with  some  show  of  interest,  but  in  a  low  voice.  From 
time  to  time  they  surveyed  the  crowd  and  indicated  to 
each  other  different  persons,  meanwhile  laughing  more 
or  less  affectedly. 

The  only  people  who  appeared  to  be  really  enjoying 
themselves  were  two  friars,  two  citizens  and  an  officer 
of  the  army  who  formed  a  group  around  a  small  table, 
on  which  were  bottles  of  wine  and  English  biscuits.  The 
officer  was  old,  tall  and  sunburnt,  and  looked  as  the 
Duke  of  Alva  might  have  looked,  had  he  been  reduced 
to  a  command  in  the  civil  guard.  He  said  little,  but 
what  he  did  say  was  short  and  to  the  point.  One  of  the 
friars  was  a  young  Dominican,  handsome  and  dressed 
with  extreme  nicety.  He  wore  gold  mounted  spectacles 
and  preserved  the  extreme  gravity  of  youth.  The  other 
friar,  however,  who  was  a  Franciscan,  talked  a  great 
deal  and  gesticulated  even  more.  Although  his  hair 
was  getting  gray,  he  seemed  to  be  well  preserved  and  in 
robust  health.  His  splendid  figure,  keen  glance,  square 
jaw  and  herculean  form  gave  him  the  appearance  of  a 
Eoman  patrician  in  disguise.  He  was  gay  and  talked 
briskly,  like  one  who  is  not  afraid  to  speak  out. 
Brusque  though  his  words  might  be,  his  merry  laugh 
removed  any  disagreeable  impression.  . 

As  to  the  citizens,  one  of  them  was  email  in  stature 


4  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

and  wore  a  black  beard,  his  most  noticeable  feature 
being  his  large  nose — so  large  that  you  could  scarcely 
believe  that  it  was  all  his  own.  The  other  was  a  young 
blonde,  apparently  a  recent  arrival  in  the  country.  The 
litter  was  carrying  on  a  lively  discussion  with  the 
Franciscan. 

"You  will  see,"  said  the  friar,  "when  you  have  been 
in  the  country  a  few  months,  and  will  be  convinced  that 
what  I  say  is  right.  It  is  one  thing  to  govern  in  Mad- 
rid and  another  to  rule  in  the  Philippines." 

"But '' 

"I,  for  example,"  continued  Father  Damaso,  raising 
his  voice  to  prevent  the  other  from  speaking,  "I,  who 
can  point  to  my  twenty-three  years  of  existence  on  ba- 
nanas and  rice,  can  speak  with  some  authority  on  this 
subject.  Do  not  come  to  me  with  theories  or  arguments, 
for  I  know  the  native.  Eemember,  that  when  I  came  to 
this  country,  I  was  sent  to  a  parish,  small  and  largely 
devot^id  to  agriculture.  '  I  did  not  understand  Tagalog 
very  well,  but  I  received  the  confessions  of  the  women 
and  we  managed  to  understand  each  other.  In  fact, 
they  came  to  think  so  much  of  me  that  three  years  after- 
ward, when  I  was  sent  to  another  and  larger  town, 
where  a  vacancy  had  been  created  by  the  death  of  the 
native  parish  priest,  all  the  women  were  in  tears. 
They  overwhelmed  me  with  presents,  they  saw  me  off 
with  bands  of  music " 

"But  this  only  shows " 

"Wait,  wait!  Do  not  be  in  a  hurry!  My  successor 
remained  there  a  still  shorter  time,  but  when  he  left 
there  were  more  people  to  see  him  off,  more  tears  shed, 
and  more  music  played,  although  he  had  treated  the 
people  worse  than  I,  and  had  raised  the  parish  dues  to 
a  sum  almost  double  the  amount  I  had  exacted." 

"But  allow  me '' 

^^Furthermore,  I  was  twenty  years  in  the  town  of  San 
Diego  and  it  was  only  a  few  months  ago — that — that  I 
left.  Twenty  years!  Surely  any  one  will  admit  that 
twenty  years  is  time  enough  to  get  acquainted  with  a 
town.  There  were  six  thousand  people  in  San  Diego, 
and  I  knew  every  one  of  them  as  if  he  wers  my  own 


Don  Santiago's  Dinner.  5 

child.  I  knew  even  the  private  affairs  of  them  all;  I 
knew  in  what  way  this  man  was  'crooked/  where  the 
shoe  pinched  that  one,  what  slips  every  girl  had  made 
and  with  whom,  and  who  was  the  true  father  of  each 
child,  for  I  received  all  of  their  confessions  and  they 
always  confessed  scrupulously.  I  can  prove  what  I  say 
by  Santiago,  our  host,  for  he  has  considerable  property 
in  that  town,  and  it  was  there  that  we  became  friends. 
Well,  then!  This  will  show  you  what  sort  of  people 
the  natives  are:  when  I  went  away,  only  a  few  old  wo- 
men and  some  lay  brothers  saw  me  off.  And  that,  after 
I  had  been  there  twenty  years!  Don't  you  see  that  this 
proves  beyond  a  doubt  that  all  the  reforms  attempted 
by  the  Ministers  of  the  Government  in  Madrid  are  per- 
fectly absurd?" 

It  was  now  the  young  man's  turn  to  be  perplexed. 
The  lieutenant,  who  had  been  listening  to  the  argu- 
ment, knit  his  brows.  The  little  man  with  the  black 
beard  made  ready  to  combat  or  support  Father  Da- 
maso's  arguments,  while  the  Dominican  was  content  to 
remain  entirely  neutral. 

"But   do  you   believe ,"   the    young    man    finally 

asked  in  a  curious  mood,  and  looking  straight  at  the 
friar. 

"Do  I  believe  it?  As  I  do  the  Gospel!  The  native 
is  so  indolent!" 

"Ah!  Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you,"  said  the 
young  blonde,  lowering  his  voice  and  drawing  his  chair 
closer,  "but  you  have  spoken  a  word  that  arouses  my 
interest.  Is  this  indolence  an  inherent  characteristic  of 
the  native,  or  is  it  true,  as  a  foreign  traveller  has  said 
in  speaking  of  a  country  whose  inhabitants  are  of  the 
same  race  as  these,  that  this  indolence  is  only  a  fabri- 
cation to  excuse  our  own  laziness,  our  backwardness  and 
the  faults  of  our  celestial  system?" 

"Bah!  That  is  nothing  but  envy!  Ask  Senor  La- 
ruja,  who  knows  this  country  very  well,  whether  the 
native  has  his  equal  in  the  world  for  indolence  and  ig- 
norance." 

"It  is  a  fact,"  replied  the  little  man  referred  to,  "that 


6  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

nowhere  in  the  world  can  any  one  be  found  more  indo- 
lent than  the  native.     Positively  nowhere!" 

"Nor  more  vicious  and  ungrateful !" 

"N"or  with  less  education  V 

Somewhat  uneasy,  the  blonde  man  began  to  glance 
about  the  room.  "Gentlemen,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice, 
"I  believe  that  we  are  in  the  house  of  a  native,  and  these 
young  ladies  may  " 

"Bah!  Don^t  be  so  sensitive.  How  long  have  you 
been  in  the  country?" 

"Four  days,"  answered  the  young  man  somewhat 
ruffled. 

"Did  you  come  here  as  an  employee?" 

"No,  sir.  I  came  on  my  own  account  in  order  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  country." 

"Man,  what  a  rare  bird  you  are !"  exclaimed  Father 
Damaso,  looking  at  him  with  curiosity.  "To  come  here 
on  your  own  account  for  such  foolish  ends!  What  a 
phenomenon !  And  when  so  many  books  have  been  writ- 
ten about  this  country " 

Then,  striking  the  arm  of  his  chair  with  sudden  vio- 
lence, he  exclaimed:  "The  country  is  being  lost;  it  is  lost 
already.  The  governing  power  supports  heretics  against 
the  ministers  of  God." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  again  asked  the  lieutenant,  half 
rising  from  his  chair. 

"What  do  I  mean?"  repeated  Father  Damaso,  again 
raising  his  voice,  and  facing  the  lieutenant.  "I  mean 
what  I  say.  I  mean  that,  when  a  priest  turns  away  the 
corpse  of  a  heretic  from  his  cemetery,  no  one,  not  even 
the  King  himself,  has  the  right  to  interfere,  and  still 
less  to  punish.  iVnd  yet  a  general,  a  miserable  little 
general '' 

"Father!  His  Excellency  is  the  vice-regal  representa- 
tive of  His  Majesty  the  King!"  exclaimed  the  officer, 
rising  to  his  feet. 

"What  do  I  care  for  His  Excellency,  or  for  any  of 
your  vice-regal  representatives !"  answered  the  Francis- 
can, rising  in  his  turn.  "In  any  other  time  than  the 
present,  he  would  have  been  thrown  down  stairs  in  the 
same  way  as  the  religious  corporations  treated  the  sac- 


Don  Santiago's  Dinner.  7 

rilegious  governor  Bustamente  in  his  time.  Those  were 
the  days  when  there  was  faith!" 

"I'll  tell  you  right  here  that  I  don't  allow  any — His 
Excellency  represents  His  Majesty  the  King!" 

"I  don't  care  whether  he  is  king  or  rogue.  For  us 
there  is  no  king  other  than  the  true " 

"Stop  this  immediately!"  shouted  the  lieutenant  in  a 
threatening  manner,  and  as  though  he  were  commanding 
his  own  soldiers.  "Take  back  what  you  have  said,  or 
to-morrow  I  shall  inform  His  Excellency." 

"Go  and  tell  him  at  once !  Go  tell  him !"  answered 
Father  Damaso,  sarcastically,  at  the  same  time  ap- 
proaching the  lieutenant  with  his  fists  doubled.  "Don't 
you  think  for  a  moment  that,  because  I  wear  the  dress 
of  a  monk,  I'm  not  a  man.  Hurry!  Go  tell  him!  I'll 
lend  you  my  carriage." 

The  discussion  began  to  grow  ridiculous  as  the  speak- 
ers became  more  heated,  but,  at  this  point,  fortunately, 
the   Dominican   interfered. 

"Gentlemen !"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  authority,  and  with 
that  nasal  twang  which  is  so  characterisrie  of  the  friars, 
"there  is  no  reason  why  you  should  thus  confuse  matters 
or  take  offense  where  it  is  not  intended.  We  should  dis- 
tinguish between  what  Father  Damaso  says  as  a  man,  and 
what  he  says  as  a  priest.  Whatever  he  may  say  as  a 
priest  cannot  be  offensive,  for  the  words  of  a  priest  are 
understood  to  be  absolutely  true." 

"But  I  understand  what  his  motives  are.  Father 
Sibyla !"  interrupted  the  lieutenant,  who  saw  that  he 
would  be  drawn  into  a  net  of  such  fine  distinction  that, 
if  he  allowed  it  to  go  on.  Father  Damaso  would  get  off 
scot  free.  "I  know  very  well  what  his  motives  are,  and 
Your  Reverence  will  also  perceive  them.  During  the 
absence  of  Father  Damaso  from  San  Diego,  his  assist- 
ant buried  the  body  of  a  very  worthy  person.  Yes,  sir, 
an  extremely  worthy  person !  I  had  known  the  man 
from  time  to  time  and  had  often  been  his  guest.  What 
if  he  never  had  been  to  confession?  I  do  not  confess, 
Either.  To  say  that  he  committed  suicide  is  a  lie,  a 
slander.  A  man  such  as  he,  with  a  son  whose  success 
and  love  were  more  than  all  the  world  to  him;  a  man 


8  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

who  believed  in  God,  who  fulfilled  his  duty  to  society, 
who  was  honorable  and  just — such  a  man  does  not  com- 
mit suicide.  That  is  what  I  say!  I  am  not  telling  you 
all  that  I  think  about  this  matter,  and  Your  Reverence 
should  be  very  thankful  that  I  restrain  myself." 

Turning  his  back  on  the  Franciscan,  he  continued: 
"As  I  was  saying,  this  priest,  when  he  returned  to  the 
town,  after  maltreating  his  coadjutor,  ordered  that  the 
man's  body  be  taken  up  and  thrown  out  of  the  ceme- 
tery, to  be  buried  I  know  not  where.  The  town  of  San 
Diego  was  too  cowardly  to  protest,  though,  in  fact,  very 
few  people  knew  much  about  the  matter.  The  dead 
man  had  no  relatives  in  the  town  and  his  only  son  was  in 
Europe.  His  Excellency,  however,  learned  about  the 
affair,  and  being  at  heart  upright  and  just,  he  ordered 
that  the  priest  be  punished.  As  a  result,  Father  Da- 
maso  was  transferred  to  another  but  better  town.  That 
is  all  there  was  to  it.  Now  you  can  make  all  the  distinc- 
tions you  like." 

So  saying,  he  left  the  group. 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  have  touched  upon  so  delicate  a  sub- 
ject," said  Father  Sibyla,  "but,  after  all,  if  the  change 
from  one  town  to  another  was  to  your  advantage ^" 

"How  could  it  be  to  my  advantage?  How  about  all 
the  things  that  I  lost?"  interrupted  Father  Damaso, 
fairly  boiling  over  with  rage. 

"Good  evening,  gentlemen!  Good  evening,  Father!" 
said  Captain  Santiago,  who  at  that  instant  entered  the 
room,  leading  a  youth  by  the  hand.  On  saluting  his 
guests  in  this  manner,  he  kissed  the  hands  of  the  priests, 
who,  by  the  way,  forgot  to  give  him  their  blessing.  The 
Dominican  took  off  his  gold-rimmed  spectacles  in  order 
to  examine  the  new  arrival  at  better  advantage,  while 
Father  Damaso,  turning  pale  at  the  sight,  stared  at  the 
youth  with  eyes  wide  open. 

"I  have  the  honor  of  presenting  to  you  Don  Crisos- 
tomo  Ibarra,  the  son  of  my  deceased  friend,"  said  Cap- 
tain Tiago.  "The  young  man  has  just  arrived  from 
Europe,  and  I  have  been  to  meet  him."  At  the  mere 
mention  of  the  name,  exclamations  were  heard  in  all 
parts  of  the  room.     The  lieutenant,  forgetting  himself 


Don  Santiago's  Dinner.  0 

entirely,  did  not  stop  to  salute  his  host,  but  at  once 
approached  the  young  man  and  surveyed  him  from  head 
to  foot.  The  youth  exchanged  the  usual  greetings  with 
those  who  had  gathered  around  him.  He  showed  no 
striking  peculiarity,  except  in  his  sombre  dress,  which 
was  in  deep  contrast  with  that  of  the  other  persons 
present.  His  athletic  build,  his  appearance,  and  every 
movement  he  made  showed,  however,  that  a  fine  mind 
and  a  healthy  body  had  both  been  highly  developed. 
You  could  see  from  his  frank  and  vivajuious  face  that 
he  had  Spanish  blood  in  his  veins.  Although  his  hair, 
eyes  and  complexion  were  dark,  his  cheeks  had  a  slight 
color,  due,  no  doubt,  to  residence  in  cold  countries. 

"What !"  he  exclaimed  with  glad  surprise,  "the  parish 
priest  of  my  own  town!  Father  Damaso,  my  father's 
intimate  friend!"  Every  one  in  the  room  looked  at  the 
Franciscan,  but  the  latter  made  no  motion. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  if  I  have  made  a  mistake," 
added  Ibarra,  somewhat  in  doubt  because  of  the  apathy  of 
the  friar. 

"You  have  made  no  mistake,"  the  priest  finally  an- 
swered in  a  strained  voice,  "but  your  father  was  never 
an  intimate  friend  of  mine." 

Ibarra  slowly  withdrew  the  hand  which  he  had  offered, 
looking  at  the  friar  with  great  surprise.  As  he  turned 
about,  he  came  face  to  face  with  the  lieutenant  just  ap- 
proaching. 

"My  boy,  are  you  the  son  of  Don  Rafael  Ibarra  ?" 

The  young  man  bowed  in  acquiescence.  Father  Dd- 
maso  settled  back  into  his  arm-chair  and  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  the  lieutenant. 

"Welcome  to  your  country!  May  you  be  more  happy 
in  it  than  was  your  father!"  exclaimed  the  officer  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "I  had  many  dealings  with  your  father 
and  I  knew  him  well,  and  I  can  say  that  he  was  one 
of  the  most  worthy  and  honorable  men  in  the 
Philippines." 

"Sir,"  replied  Ibarra  with  emotion,  "your  praise  of 
my  father  puts  me  in  doubt  as  to  his  fate.  Even  now 
I,  his  own  son,  am  ignorant  of  it  all." 

The  eyes  of  the  old  man  filled  with  tears.    He  turned 


10  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

and  hurriedly  withdrew.  Ibarra  found  himself  standing 
alone  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  His  host  had  disap- 
peared, and  he  turned  to  a  group  of  gentlemen,  who,  as 
soon  as  they  saw  him  coming,  formed  a  semicircle  to  re- 
ceive him. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "in  Germany,  when  a  stranger 
attends  any  social  function  and  there  is  no  one  present 
to  introduce  him,  it  is  allowable  for  him  to  introduce 
himself.  Permit  me  to  avail  myself  of  this  practice. 
Gentlemen,  my  name  is  Juan  Crisostomo  Ibarra  y  Mag- 
salin."  The  others  gave  their  names  in  turn,  of  which 
the  most  were  comparatively  unknown. 

"My  name  is  A a,"  said  one  of  the  young  men,  bow- 
ing stiffly. 

"Then,  perhaps,  I  have  the  honor  of  addressing  the 
poet  whose  works  have  kept  up  my  enthusiasm  for  my 
country?  I  have  been  told  that  you  have  stopped  writ- 
ing, but  no  one  has  told  me  why." 

"Why?  Because  there  is  no  use  in  invoking  the 
muses  for  false  and  foolish  ends.  A  case  has  been  made 
out  against  one  man  for  having  put  into  verse  a  true 
story  of  Pero  Grullo.  I  am  not  going  to  get  myself  into 
a  similar  scrape.  They  may  call  me  a  poet,  but  they 
shall  not  call  me  a  fool." 

"And  can  you  not  tell  us  what  that  true  story  was?" 

"Yes.  The  poet  said  that  the  son  of  a  lion  is  also  a 
lion,  and  for  saying  this  he  narrowly  escaped  being 
banished." 

"Dinner  is  ready,"  announced  a  waiter  who  had  been 
borrowed  from  the  Cafe  Campaiia.  The  guests  began 
to  file  into  the  dining  room,  not,  however,  without  many 
sighs,  and  even  some  prayers  among  the  women,  espe- 
cially the  natives,  that  the  dreaded  affair  would  soon 
be  over. 


At  the  Dinner  Table.  11 


CHAPTER  11. 

AT   THE   DINNER  TABLE. 

Father  Sibyla  wore  a  satisfied  air.  He  moved  along 
tranquilly,  and  his  closed,  thin  lips  showed  no  signs  of  dis- 
dain. On  the  other  hand,  the  Franciscan  was  in  a  very 
bad  humor.  As  he  walked  toward  the  table,  he  kicked 
over  the  chairs  which  happened  to  be  in  his  way  and  boxed 
the  ears  of  one  of  the  cadets.  The  lieutenant  was  very 
solemn  and  grave. 

The  two  friars  instinctively  started  for  the  head  of  the 
table,  perhaps  by  force  of  habit,  and,  as  might  have  been 
expected,  they  met  on  opposite  sides  of  the  same  chair. 
Then,  with  ponderous  courtesy,  each  entreated  the  other  to 
sit  down,  giving  in  turn  his  reasons  why  the  other  should 
take  precedence.  Every  one  at  the  table  understood  how 
both  really  felt  in  the  matter,  and  all  knew  well  that  the 
one  who  did  not  take  the  coveted  seat  would  grumble  dis- 
contentedly for  the  remainder  of  the  evening.  The  farce 
proceeded  something  like  this: 

"You  take  it.  Brother  Damaso !     It  is  for  you  !" 

"No,  you  take  it.  Brother  Sibyla !" 

"You  are  an  old  friend  of  the  family,  the  confessor 
of  its  deepest  mysteries ;  your  age,  your  dignity,  your " 

"No,  that  is  all  right  as  far  as  age  goes,  but,  on  the 
other  hand  you  are  the  priest  of  this  suburb,"  answered 
Father  Damaso  in  an  insincere  tone,  without,  however, 
leaving  the  chair. 

"As  you  order  it,  I  obey,"  concluded  Father  Sibyla, 
making  ready  to  sit  down. 

"But  I  do  not  order  it,"  protested  the  Franciscan,  "I  do 
not  order  it." 

Father  Sibyla  was  about  to  take  the  seat  without  any 
further  regard  to  the  protests  of  his  brother,  when  his  eyes 
dianced  to  meet  those  of  the  lieutenant.    According  to  the 


12  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

religious  customs  in  the  Philippines,  the  highest  military 
officer  is  inferior  to  even  a  convent  cook.  "Cedent  arma 
togce/*  said  Cicero  in  the  Senate.  ''Cedent  arma  cottce/* 
say  the  friars  in  the  Philippines.  Father  Sibyla,  however, 
was  a  person  of  some  culture  and  refinement,  and,  as  soon 
as  he  noticed  the  expression  on  the  lieutenant's  face,  said: 
"Here!  We  are  now  out  in  the  w^orld,  and  not  in  the 
Church.  This  seat  belongs  to  you,  lieutenant!''  But,  to 
judge  from  the  tone  of  his  voice,  he  thought  that,  although 
he  was  out  in  the  world  and  not  in  the  Church,  the  seat 
nevertheless  belonged  to  him.  The  lieutenant,  either  to 
save  himself  trouble  or  in  order  to  avoid  sitting  between 
two  friars,  declined  the  honor  in  a  very  few  words. 

Neither  of  the  disputants  had  thought  of  the  owner  of 
the  house.  Ibarra  saw  him  looking  upon  the  scene  and 
smiling  with  satisfaction. 

"How  is  this,  Don  Santiago !  Aren't  you  going  to  sit 
down  with  us  ?'' 

But  all  of  the  seats  were  already  occupied,  and  Lucullus 
did  not  dine  in  the  house  of  Lucullus. 

"Sit  still!  Don't  get  up!"  said  Captain  Tiago,  laying 
his  hand  on  the  young  man's  shoulder.  "The  fact  is  that 
this  feast  is  given  in  honor  of  the  Virgin  on  account  of 
your  safe  arrival.  Here!  Bring  on  the  tinola!  I  ordered 
some  tinola  made  expressly  for  you,  for  I  feel  quite  certain 
that  you  have  not  had  any  since  you  left  the  Philippines 
a  long  while  ago." 

A  large  dish  was  brought  in,  still  steaming  and  filled 
to  the  brim  with  tinola.  The  Dominican,  after  murmur- 
ing the  Benedicite  (to  which  only  a  few  of  those  present 
could  give  the  response),  began  to  serve  the  contents  of 
the  dish.  Either  from  carelessness  or  for  some  other 
reason,  he  passed  to  Father  Damaso  a  plate  filled  with 
the_somL^nd  stew,  but  containing  only  two_smaU_piece8_ 
^  chicken,  a  bony  neck  and  a  tough  wing.  ^  Meanwhile" 
tne"others,  especially  Ibarra,  were  eating  all  sorts  of  choice 
bits.  The  Franciscan,  of  course,  noticed  this,  mussed 
over  the  stew,  took  a  mouthful  of  the  soup,  dropped  his 
spoon  with  a  clatter  into  his  plate,  and  pushed  the  dish 
to  one  side.  While  this  was  going  on,  the  Dominican  ap- 
peared to  be  absorbed  in  conversation  with  the  young 


At  the  Dinner  Table.  13 

blonde.  Senor  Laruja  had  also  begun  to  converse  with 
Ibarra. 

"How  long  has  it  been  since  you  were  last  in  this  coun- 
try;''  eaid  he. 

"About  seven  years,"  responded  Ibarra. 

"You  must  have  forgotten  all  about  it." 

"On  the  contrary,  although  my  country  seems  to  have 
forgotten  me,  I  have  always  kept  her  in  mind." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  interposed  the  blonde. 

**1  mean  that  for  over  a  year  I  have  not  received  any 
news  from  here,  so  that  now  I  feel  like  a  total  stranger. 
I  do  not  yet  know  how  or  when  my  father  died." 

"Ah  !"  exclaimed  the  lieutenant. 

"Where  have  you  been  that  you  did  not  telegraph?" 
asked  one  of  the  ladies.  "When  I  was  married,  we  tele- 
graphed to  the  Peninsula." 

"Senora,  for  the  last  two  years  I  have  been  in  northern 
Europe,  in  Germany  and  in  Poland." 

"And  what  country  of  Europe  do  you  like  best?"  asked 
the  young  blonde,  who  had  been  listening  interestedly. 

"After  Spain,  which  is  my  second  fatherland,  oh — any 
free  country  in  Europe." 

"You  seem  to  have  travelled  a  great  deal — what  is  the 
most  ri^markable  thing  that  you  have  observed?"  asked 
Laruja. 

Ibarra  appeared  to  be  reflecting  on  the  question.  "Ee- 
markable  ?    In  what  way  ?" 

"For  instance,  in  the  life  of  the  different  peoples, — ^their 
social,  political  and  religious  life " 

Ibarra  meditated  for  some  little  time.    "I  always  made 

it  a  point  to  study  the  history  of  a  country  before  visiting 

^it,  and  I  find  that  national  development  invariably  follows 

*  )erfectly  natural  rules.     I  have  always  noticed  that  the 

)rosperity  or  poverty  of  different  peoples  is  in  direct  pro- 

[ortion  to  their  liberties  or  their  lack  of  liberty,  or,  in 

:her  words,  in  proportion  to  the  sacrifices  or  selfishness 

)f  their  forefathers." 

"And  is  that  all  you  have  observed?"  asked  the  Fran- 
ciscan, with  a  loud  laugh.  Up  to  this  time,  he  had  not 
uttered  a  single  word,  but  had  given  his  attention  to  the 
dinner.    "It  was  not  worth  while  to  squander  your  fortune 


14  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

for  the  purpose  of  learning  such  a  trifle — a  thing  that 
every  school  boy  knows." 

Ibarra  looked  at  him  intently,  doubtful  what  to  say. 
The  guests  glanced  at  each  other,  fearing  that  a  quarrel 
would  break  out.  "The  dinner  has  been  too  long,  and 
Your  Reverence  is  affected  by  too  much  wine,"  Ibarra 
was  about  to  reply,  but  he  checked  himself  in  time  and 
only  said:  "Gentlemen,  do  not  wonder  at  the  familiarity 
with  which  our  old  parish  priest  treats  me.  He  treated 
me  this  way  when  I  was  a  child,  and  the  years  that  have 
passed  since  then  have  not  changed  His  Eeverence.  I  de- 
rive a  certain  amount  of  pleasure  from  it,  for  I  am  re- 
minded of  those  days  when  His  Reverence  was  a  frequent 
visitor  at  our  house  and  honored  my  father's  table." 

The  Dominican  glanced  furtively  at  the  Franciscan,  who 
was  trembling.  Ibarra  continued,  rising  from  his  chair: 
"You  will  allow  me  to  withdraw,  for  I  have  only  just  ar- 
rived, and  I  must  leave  town  to-morrow.  Besides,  I  have 
a  great  many  things  to  do  before  I  leave.  The  dinner  is 
practically  finished,  and  I  drink  very  little  wine  and 
scarcely  touch  spirits.  Gentlemen,  here's  to  Spain  and 
the  Philippines." 

Saying  this,  he  emptied  the  glass,  which,  until  then,  he 
had  not  touched.  The  old  lieutenant  followed  his  ex- 
ample, but  said  nothing. 

"Do  not  go  V  said  Captain  Tiago  to  him  in  a  low  voice. 
"Maria  Clara  is  coming  immediately.  Isabel  has  just 
gone  to  get  her.  The  new  parish  priest  of  your  town  is 
also  coming,  and  he  is  a  saint." 

"I  shall  come  to-morrow  before  I  leave.  I  have  to  make 
a  most  important  visit  yet  to-night,  and  really  must  go !" 
With  this  he  took  his  departure.  In  the  meantime,  the 
Franciscan  had  recovered  himself. 

"You  see  how  it  is,"  said  he  to  the  young  blonde,  gestic- 
ulating with  his  dessert  knife.  "It  is  nothing  but  pride. 
He  could  not  bear  to  have  a  priest  reprove  him.  Can  de- 
cent people  believe  it?  This  is  the  evil  consequence  of 
sending  young  men  to  Europe.  The  Government  ought 
to  prohibit  it." 

That  night,  the  young  blonde  wrote,  among  other  things, 
in  the  first  chapter  of  his  "Colonial  Studies":  "How  the 


At  the  Dinner  Table.  15 

neck  and  wing  of  a  chicken  in  a  friar's  plate  of  tinola  can 
disturb  the  gayety  of  a  feast  I"  And  among  his  other  ob- 
servations were  the  following:  "In  the  Philippines  the 
most  insignificant  person  at  a  dinner  or  a  feast  is  the  host. 
The  owner  of  the  house  has  only  to  remain  out  in  the 
streetj  and  everything  will  go  along  beautifully.  In  the 
present  state  of  affairs,  it  would  be  well  to  forbid  the  Fili- 
pinos to  leave  their  country,  and  not  to  teach  them  how  to 
read." 


16  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER   III. 

HEBETIC   AND  EEVOLUTIONIST. 

Ibarra  was  still  confused,  but  the  evening  breeze,  which, 
in  Manila,  is  at  this  time  of  the  year  always  cool  and  re- 
freshing, seemed  gently  to  lift  the  hazy  mist  which  hung 
over  his  eyes.  He  removed  his  hat  and  drew  a  deep,  long 
breath. 

Men  of  all  nationalities  passed  by  in  swift  carriages  or 
in  slow-going,  rented  calesas.  He  was  walking  at  that 
slow  pace  characteristic  alike  of  deep  thought  and  lazi- 
ness, and  was  making  his  way  toward  the  Plaza  of  Binondo. 
He  looked  about  in  search  of  any  old  and  familiar  ob- 
jects. Yes,  there  were  the  same  old  streets,  the  same  old 
houses  with  white  and  blue  fronts,  the  same  old  walls  cov- 
ered with  whitewash  or  repainted  in  poor  imitation  of 
granite;  there  was  the  same  old  church  tower,  its  clock 
with  transparent  face  still  marking  the  hours;  there,  too, 
were  the  old  Chinese  shops,  with  their  dirty  curtains  and 
iron  rods,  one  of  which  remained  unrepaired  as  he  himself 
had  bent  it  when  a  boy. 

"Things  go  slowly  here!"  he  muttered  and  continued 
up  the  street  past  the  vestry. 

As  they  dished  up  flavored  ices,  the  street  venders  were 
still  crying  "sorbettes.'^  The  same  little  cocoanut  oil 
lamps  furnished  light  for  the  stands  where  native  women 
and  Chinese  disposed  of  their  sweetmeats  and  fruit. 

'It  is  marvellous,''  he  exclaimed.  "There  is  the  same 
Chinaman  who  was  at  that  stand  seven  years  ago.  There 
is  that  same  old  woman  whom  I  remember  so  well.  Why, 
one  might  think  my  seven  years  in  Europe  but  a  night's 
sleep.  And,  by  heavens,  they  have  not  yet  repaired  this 
broken  place  in  the  pavement !" 

Indeed,  the  stone  which  had  been  torn  out  of  the  pave- 
ment before  he  left  Manila  had  not  yet  been  replaced. 


Heretic  and  Revolutionist.  17 

While  lie  was  meditating  upon  the  wonderful  stability  of 
things  in  so  unstable  a  country,  some  one  placed  a  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  With  a  start  he  looked  up,  and  his 
eyes  met  those  of  the  old  lieutenant,  who  also  had  left 
the  Captain's  house.  A  smile  had  displaced  the  officer's 
usual  harsh  expression  and  characteristic  frown. 

"Be  careful,  young  man!"  said  he.  "Kemember  what 
happened  to  your  father !" 

"I  beg  your  pardon.  You  seem  to  have  esteemed  my 
father  very  highly.  Can  you  tell  me  what  has  been  his 
fate?"  asked  Ibarra,  gazing  intently  into  the  lieutenant's 
eyes. 

"Do  you  not  know  ?"  said  the  officer. 

"I  asked  Don  Santiago,  but  he  said  that  he  would  tell 
me  nothing  until  to-morrow.  Have  you  no  information 
regarding  him?" 

"Why,  yes;  everybody  knows  about  him.  He  died  in 
prison." 

The  young  man  stepped  back  and  stared  wildly  at  the 
officer.  "In  prison !  Who  died  in  prison  ?"  he  asked  in 
astonishment. 

"Why,  your  father,  who  had  been  arrested,"  answered 
the  officer  somewhat  surprised. 

"What!  My  father  in  prison!  Arrested  and  impris- 
oned!   Man,  what  are  you  talking  about?    Do  you  know 

who  my  father  was?     Are  you ?"  asked  the  young 

man,  nervously  grasping  the  officer's  arm. 

"I  don't  think  that  I  am  mistaken :  Don  Eaf ael  Ibarra." 

"Yes.  Don  Kafael  Ibarra,"  repeated  the  young  man, 
scarcely  able  to  utter  the  words. 

"I  thought  that  you  knew  it,"  said  the  officer,  in  a  sym- 
pathetic voice,  as  he  saw  the  emotion  his  words  had  caused. 
"I  thought  that  you  knew  it;  but  be  brave.  Here,  you 
know,  no  man  can  be  honorable  without  being  impris- 
oned." 

"I  cannot  believe  that  you  are  not  jesting,"  replied 
Ibarra,  after  a  few  minutes  of  deep  silence.  "Can  you  tell 
me  for  what  offense  he  was  imprisoned?" 

The  old  man  paused  as  if  to  meditate.  "It  seems 
strange  to  me  that  you  have  not  been  kept  informed  as  to 
the  affairs  of  your  family." 


18  Friars  and  Filipinos.' 

''My  fathier's  last  letter,  whicli  I  received  a  year  ago, 
told  me  not  to  be  uneasy  if  he  failed  to  write  to  me,  for 
he  was  very  busy.  He  advised  me  to  continue  my  studies, 
he  sent  me  his  blessing " 

"In  that  case,  he  must  have  written  the  letter  to  you 
shortly  before  his  death.  It  is  almost  a  year  since  we 
buried  him  in  his  own  town.'' 

"Why  was  my  father  arrested?"  asked  Ibarra  in  a  voice 
full  of  emotion. 

"The  cause  of  his  arrest  was  an  honorable  one.  I  must 
go  to  my  quarters  now;  walk  along  with  me  and  then  I 
can  tell  you  on  the  way.    Take  my  arm." 

They  walked  for  some  time  in  melancholy  silence.  Deep 
in  thought  and  nervously  stroking  his  goatee,  the  officer 
sought  inspiration  before  he  could  begin  the  pitiful  tale. 

"As  you  very  well  know,"  he  at  last  began,  "your  father 
was  the  richest  man  in  the  province,  and,  although  he  was 
loved  and  highly  respected  by  many,  there  were  some  en- 
vious persons  who  hated  him.  Your  father  had  a  great 
many  enemies  among  the  priests  and  the  Spaniards.  Some 
months  after  your  departure,  trouble  arose  between  Don 
Rafael  and  Father  Damaso,  but  I  do  not  know  what  it 
was  all  about.  Father  Damaso  accused  your  father  of  not 
attending  confession.  In  former  times,  however,  he  had 
never  attended  confession.  Nothing  was  said  about  it, 
and  he  and  the  priest  were  good  friends,  as  you  will  re- 
member. Furthermore,  Don  -Rafael  was  a  very  honorable 
man  and  much  more  upright  and  Just  than  many  who  go 
to  confession  regularly.  He  was  very  conscientious,  and, 
in  speaking  to  me  in  regard  to  his  troubles  with  Father 
Damaso,  used  to  say : 

"  'Senor  Guevara,  do  you  believe  that  God  will  forgive 
a  crime,  a  murder  for  instance,  simply  because  that  crime 
has  been  confessed  to  a  priest — confessed  to  a  man  who  is 
in  duty  bound  to  keep  it  secret  ?  Will  God  pardon  a  man 
whose  repentance  is  brought  about  by  his  cowardly  fear  of 
hell?  I  have  a  very  different  opinion  of  God.  I  cannot 
see  how  one  evil  can  be  corrected  by  another,  nor  how 
pardon  can  be  procured  by  mere  idle  tears  and  donations 
to  the  Church.'  Your  fatjfier  always  followed  the  strictest 
rules  of  morality.    I  may  safely  say  that  he  never  harmed 


Heretic  and  Revolutionist.  19 

any  one,  but,  on  the  contrary,  always  sought  by  doing  good 
to  offset  certain  unjust  deeds  committed  by  your  grand- 
fathers. However,  his  troubles  with  the  priests  continued 
and  took  on  a  dangerous  aspect.  Father  Damaso  alluded 
to  him  from  the  pulpit,  and,  if  he  did  not  do  so  directly 
by  name,  it  was  an  oversight  on  his  part,  for  anything 
might  be  expected  from  a  man  of  his  character.  I  fore- 
saw that  sooner  or  later  the  affair  would  have  a  bad  end- 
ing." 

The  old  lieutenant  paused  for  a  few  minutes  and  then 
continued:  "About  this  time  there  came  to  the  province 
a  man  who  had  been  in  the  artillery,  but  had  been  thrown 
out  of  the  ranks  on  account  of  his  brutality  and  igno- 
rance. This  man  had  to  make  a  livelihood.  He  was  not 
allowed  to  engage  in  the  work  of  an  ordinary  laborer,  since 
that  might  damage  Spain's  prestige,  but  somehow  ob- 
tained the  position  of  collector  of  taxes  on  vehicles.  He 
had  no  education  whatever,  and  the  natives  soon  found  it 
out.  A  Spaniard  who  cannot  read  and  write  is  a  wonder 
to  them,  and  hence  he  became  the  subject  of  all  sorts  of 
ridicule.  Knowing  that  he  was  being  laughed  at,  he  be- 
came ashamed  to  collect  his  taxes.  This  had  a  bad  effect  on 
his  character,  which  was  already  bad  enough.  People  used 
to  give  him  documents  upside  down  to  see  him  pretend 
to  read  them.  He  would  make  a  show  of  doing  so,  and 
then,  on  the  first  blank  space  he  found,  would  fill  in  some 
sprawling  characters  which,  I  may  say,  represented  him 
very  accurately.  The  natives  continued  to  pay  their  taxes, 
but  kept  on  ridiculing  him.  He  fairly  raved  with  anger 
and  worked  himself  up  to  such  a  frame  of  mind  that  he 
respected  none.  Finally,  he  had  some  words  with  your 
father.  It  happened  that  one  day,  while  the  collector  was 
studpng  a  document  which  had  been  given  to  him  in  a 
store,  some  school  boys  came  along.  One  of  them  called 
the  attention  of  his  companions  to  the  collector,  and  they 
all  began  to  laugh  and  point  their  fingers  at  the  unhappy 
man.  The  collector  finally  lost  his  patience,  turned  quick- 
ly and  chased  his  tormentors.  The  boys,  of  course,  ran  in 
all  directions,  at  the  same  time  mimicking  a  child  learn- 
ing the  alphabet.  Blind  with  rage  because  he  could  not 
reach  them,  he  threw  his  cane,  struck  one  of  the  boys  on 


20  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

the  Head  and  knocked  him  down.  ISTot  conteni  with 
this,  he  went  up  and  kicked  the  hoy  several  times.  TJn- 
fortunately,  your  father  happened  to  be  passing  just 
at  the  moment.  Indignant  at  what  he  saw,  he  seized 
the  tax  collector  by  the  arm  and  severely  reproached 
him  for  his  actions.  The  tax  collector  in  anger  raised 
his  cane  to  strike,  but  your  father  was  too  quick 
for  him.  With  that  strength  which  he  inherited 
from  his  forefathers,  he,  as  some  say,  struck  the 
collector,  or,  as  others  claim,  only  gave  him  a  push.  The 
fact  is  that  the  man  staggered  and  fell  to  the  ground,  and, 
in  falling,  struck  his  head  against  a  stone.  Don  Eafael 
quietly  lifted  up  the  wounded  boy  and  carried  him  to  the 
court  house  near  by,  leaving  the  collector  where  he  had 
fallen.  The  ex-artilleryman  began  to  bleed  at  the  mouth 
and  died  without  regaining  consciousness. 

"Nkturally  the  law  stepped  in.  They  showered  calum- 
nies of  all  kinds  upon  your  father  and  accused  him  of  being 
a  heretic  and  a  revolutionist.  To  be  a  heretic  is  a  great 
misfortune  anywhere  or  at  any  time,  but  it  was  especially 
so  at  this  particular  time,  for  the  chief  magistrate  of  the 
province  was  the  loudest  prayer  maker  in  the  Church.  To 
be  a  revolutionist  is  still  worse.  One  might  better  have 
killed  three  highly  educated  tax  collectors  than  be  thus  ac- 
cused. Everybody  deserted  your  father,  and  his  books  and 
papers  were  seized.  He  was  accused  of  being  a  subscriber 
to  *E1  Correo  del  Ultramar^  and  to  Madrid  newspapers, 
of  having  sent  you  to  Germany,  of  having  in  his  possession 
incriminating  papers  and  pictures,  and — ^well,  I  don't 
know  what  not.  He  was  even  attacked  because,  although 
he  was  the  descendant  of  Spaniards,  he  wore  the  dress  of 
the  natives.  If  your  father  had  been  anybody  else,  he 
would  have  been  acquitted,  for  the  doctors  pronounced  the 
death  of  the  collector  due  to  natural  causes.  His  fortune, 
however,  his  confidence  in  the  law,  and  his  hatred  for 
everything  which  seemed  unlawful  and  unjust,  cost  him 
his  life.  I  myself,  much  as  I  dislike  hedging  for  mercy, 
called  upon  the  Governor  General,  the  predecessor  of  the 
present  Governor.  I  brought  out  the  fact  that  a  man 
who  aided  every  poor  Spaniard,  who  gave  food  and  shelter 
to  all,  and  whose  veins  were  filled  with  the  generous  blood 


Heretic  and  Revolutionist.  21 

of  Spain — such  a  man  could  not  be  a  revolutionist.  In 
vain  I  argued  for  him,  pledged  my  own  life  for  him,  and 
swore  by  my  military  honor.  What  did  it  all  amount  to? 
I  was  badly  received,  curtly  and  summarily  dismissed,  and 
called  a  fool/' 

The  old  man  paused  to  take  breath.  His  young  com- 
panion neither  looked  up  nor  made  a  sound.  The  narra- 
tor proceeded :  "I  took  charge  of  the  case  for  your  father. 
I    called   upon   the    celebrated    Filipino    lawyer,    young 

A a,  but  he  refused  to  undertake  the  defense.  'I  would 

lose  the  case,'  he  said,  'my  defense  would  cause  new  accusa- 
tions against  him,  and  perhaps  bring  them  upon  me.  Go 
and  see  Senor  M ,  who  is  an  eloquent  orator,  a  Span- 
iard and  a  man  of  great  reputation.'  I  did  so,  and  the 
celebrated  lawyer  took  charge  of  the  case,  which  he  con- 
ducted in  a  masterful  and  brilliant  manner.  But  youn 
father  had  many  enemies,  some  of  whom  did  their  work 
secretly.  There  were  many  false  witnesses  in  the  case, 
and  their  calumnies,  which  anywhere  else  would  have  been 
overthrown  by  a  single  sarcastic  phrase  from  the  defend- 
ing attorney,  were  here  given  a  great  deal  of  weight.  As 
fast  as  the  attorney  proved  the  falsity  of  their  accusa- 
tions, new  charges  were  brought  forward.  They  accused 
him  of  having  wrongfully  taken  possession  of  a  large  tract 
of  land.  They  sued  him  for  damages  and  for  injuries 
caused.  They  said  that  he  had  dealings  with  the  organized 
bandits  or  tulisanes,  and  that  thus  he  had  been  able  to 
keep  his  property  unmolested.  In  fact,  the  case  became 
so  complicated  that  within  a  year  no  one  understood  it. 
The  chief  magistrate  was  called  away  from  his  post  and 
replaced  by  another  of  good  reputation,  but  unfortunately 
this  magistrate,  too,  was  displaced  in  a  few  months. 

"The  sufferings,  disappointments  and  discomforts  of 
prison  life,  and  his  great  grief  at  seeing  the  ingratitude  of 
so  many  supposed  friends,  finally  broke  down  your  father's 
iron  constitution  and  he  became  fatally  ill.  When  it  was 
all  over;  when  he  had  proved  himself  not  guilty  of  being 
an  enemy  to  his  country,  and  innocent  of  the  death  of  the 
tax  collector,  he  died  in  prison,  with  no  one  to  care  for 
him  in  his  last  hours.    I  arrived  just  as  he  was  expiring." 

.The  old  man  had  finished  all  he  had  to  say.    Ibarra, 


22  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

overcome  witK  grief  at  the  pathetic  story  He  had  heard, 
could  not  utter  a  word.  The  two  had  arrived  at  the  gate 
of  the  barracks.  Stopping  and  shaking  hands  with  the 
young  man,  the  officer  said :  "My  boy.  Captain  Tiago  can 
give  you  the  details.  I  must  say  good  night,  for  my  duty 
calls  me.^'  With  deep  emotion,  Ibarra  grasped  the  lean 
hand  of  the  lieutenant,  and  then  looked  after  him  in  si- 
lence until  he  disappeared  in  the  building.  Turning  slow- 
ly about,  he  saw  a  carriage  passing  and  made  a  sign  to  the 
cabman. 

"Lala's  Hotel,'^  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"This  fellow  is  just  out  of  jail,^'  said  the  cabman  to 
himself  as  he  whipped  up  his  horses. 


Captain  Tiago.  23 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CAPTAIN-  TIAGO. 

Captain  Tiago  was  short  in  stature,  but  both  his  body 
and  his  face  were  well  filled  out.  His  complexion  was 
clear  and  he  did  not  appear  to  be  more  than  thirty  or 
thirty-five  years  old,  although  he  was  really  more  than 
that.  In  these  times  his  face  always  wore  a  pleasant  ex- 
pression. His  head  was  small,  round  and  covered  with 
hair  as  black  as  ebony,  long  in  front  and  very  short  behind. 
This  head,  according  to  reports,  contained  a  great  many 
things.  His  eyes  were  small  but  not  terrifying,  and  always 
without  expression.  In  short,  the  Captain  might  have 
passed  for  a  good-looking  little  man,  if  his  mouth  had  not 
been  disfigured  by  the  use  of  tobacco  and  the  betel  nut,  the 
juices  of  which  trickled  out  of  the  comers  of  his  lips  and 
destroyed  the  symmetry  of  his  features.  However,  despite 
these  habits,  both  his  own  teeth  and  the  two  that  the  den- 
tist had  made  for  him,  at  twelve  pesos  each,  were  well  pre- 
served. 

Tiago  was  considered  one  of  the  richest  property  own- 
ers in  Binondo,  and  he  also  owned  large  plantations  in  the 
provinces  of  Pampanga  and  Laguna  de  Bay,  especially  in 
the  town  of  San  Diego.  The  rent  of  all  these  lands  in- 
creased every  yean  San  Diego  was  his  favorite  town  on 
account  of  its  excellent  bathing  place,  its  famous  cock- 
pit and  the  pleasant  memories  associated  with  the  neigh- 
borhood. He  spent  at  least  two  months  in  this  town  every 
year.  Captain  Tiago  also  had  a  great  deal  of  property  in 
Santo  Cristo,  in  Analoague  Street  and  in  Rosario  Street. 
In  partnership  with  a  Chinaman  he  carried  on  a  profitable 
business  in  opium.  It  is  understood  that  he  had  contracts 
with  the  Government  for  feeding  the  prisoners  in  Bilibid 
and  that  he  supplied  fodder  to  many  of  the  principal  houses 
in  Manila.    He  was  in  good  standing  with  the  authorities. 


24  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

able,  clevef,  and  even  daring  in  his  speculations  in  the 
necessities  of  others.  Hence  it  was  that  at  this  time  the 
Captain  was  as  happy  as  a  narrow-minded  man  could  be  in 
such  a  country.  He  was  rich,  and  was  at  peace  with  God, 
the  Government  and  man. 

That  Tiago  was  at  peace  with  God  was  indisputable. 
In  fact,  there  was  no  reason  whatever  for  his  not  being 
so,  since  he  was  well  situated  as  far  as  worldly  matters  go 
and  had  never  loaned  God  any  money.  He  never  addressed 
God  in  his  prayers,  not  even  when  he  was  in  dire  straits. 
He  was  rich,  and  his  money,  he  thought,  could  pray  for 
him.  For  masses  and  prayers,  God  had  created  powerful 
and  lofty  priests;  for  special  religious  functions  and  ro- 
saries, God,  in  His  infinite  goodness,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
rich,  had  created  poor  people — poor  people  who  for  a  peso 
would  make  half  a  dozen  prayers,  and  would  read  all  the 
Holy  Books,  even  to  the  Hebrew  Bible,  if  the  pay  were 
large  enough.-  If  at  any  time  he  found  himself  in  hard 
straits  and  needed  heavenly  aid  and  was  out  of  red  Chinese 
candles,  he  applied  to  the  saints,  making  them  great  prom- 
ises in  order  to  win  their  favor  and  convince  them  of  his 
good  intentions. 

Captain  Tiago  was  therefore  beloved  by  the  priests,  re- 
spected by  the  sacristans,  fondled  by  the  Chinese  candle- 
makers  and  fire-cracker  merchants,  and  thoroughly  happy 
in  the  religion  of  the  world.  Some  even  attributed  to  him 
great  influence  in  the  ecclesiastical  court. 

That  the  Captain  was  at  peace  with  the  Government 
must  not  be  doubted  simply  because  such  a  thing  seems 
impossible.  Incapable  of  conceiving  a  new  idea  and  con- 
tent with  the  modus  vivendi,  he  was  always  willing  to  obey 
the  latest  official  recruit  in  any  of  the  Government  offices 
and  even  ready  to  give  him  at  all  times  of  the  year  such 
presents  as  hams,  capons,  turkeys,  and  Chinese  fruit.  He 
was  the  first  to  applaud  any  tax  imposed  by  the  Govern- 
ment, especially  when  he  scented  behind  it  a  chance  of 
securing  the  contract  for  its  collection.  He  always  kept 
orchestras  on  hand  to  serenade  Government  officials  of  all 
grades  from  governor  to  the  lowest  Government  agent,  on 
their  birthdays,  saint^s  days,  or  when  any  occasion,  such 
as  the  death  of  any  of  their  relatives,  or  a  birth  in  the 


Captain  Tiago.  25 

family  connection  should  afford  a  pretext.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  to  dedicate  laudatory  verses  to  his  royal  patrons 
on  these  occasions,  thus  honoring  the  *^suave  and  loving 
governor''  or  the  "valiant  and  mighty  alcalde." 

The  Captain  was  a  petty  governor  or  gohernadorcillo  of 
a  rich  colony  of  mestizos,  in  spite  of  the  protests  of  many 
who  considered  him  unfit  for  the  position.  He  held  the 
office  for  two  years,  but  during  this  time  he  wore  out  ten 
frock  coats,  about  the  same  number  of  high  hats,  and  lost 
more  than  a  half  dozen  of  gohernadorcillo  canes.  His 
high  hat  and  frock  coat  were  always  in  evidence  in  the 
city  hall,  at  the  Government  palace  in  Melacanan*  and  at 
the  army  headquarters,  and  they  always  appeared,  too,  in 
the  cock-pit,  in  the  market,  in  all  processions,  and  in  the 
Chinese  shops.  Dressed  in  this  official  costume  with  the 
tasseled  cane.  Captain  Tiago  was  to  be  found  everywhere, 
arranging,  ordering,  and  putting  in  disorder,  everything 
with  which  he  had  anything  to  do — and  all  with  wonder- 
ful activity  and  with  still  more  wonderful  gravity. 

Sacrilegious  people  called  him  a  fool ;  poor  people  called 
him  a  hypocrite,  a  cruel  man  who  gained  a  livelihood  by 
making  others  miserable;  while  his  inferiors  looked  upon 
him  as  a  despot  and  a  tyrant.  And  the  women?  Ah,  the 
women!  Slanderous  rumors  circulated  in  the  wretched 
nipa  houses,  and  it  was  claimed  that  often  lamentations 
and  sobs,  mingled  with  the  cries  of  a  child,  could  be  heard. 
More  than  one  young  girl  was  pointed  out  by  the  malicious 
finger  of  the  neighbors,  with  the  remark:  "See  what  a 
different  expression  she  wears,  and  how  plainly  she  shows 
evidences  of  her  shame."  But  such  things  as  these  never 
robbed  the  Captain  of  any  sleep;  no  young  girl  disturbed 
his  rest. 

Such  was  the  Captain  at  that  time.  His  past  history 
was  as  follows:  He  was  the  only  son  of  a  very  wealthy 
but  avaricious  sugar  manufacturer  of  Malabon,  who  was 
unwilling  to  spend  a  cent  in  his  education.  For  this  reason 
young  Santiago  became  the  servant  of  a  good  Dominican, 
a  very  virtuous  man,  who  tried  to  teach  him  all  the  valu- 
able knowledge  which  he  possessed.  About  the  time  when 
he  was  to  have  the  happiness  of  studying  logic,  the  death 

*  Street  in  Manila. 


26  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

of  his  protector,  followed  by  that  of  his  father,  put  an 
end  to  his  studies  and  from  that  time  on  he  devoted  him- 
self to  business.  He  married  a  beautiful  girl  from  Santa 
Cruz,  who  increased  his  fortune  and  gave  him  a  social 
position. 

Dona  Pia  Alba  was  not  content  with  buying  sugar,  cof- 
fee and  indigo;  she  wished  to  sow  and  reap,  so  the  young 
husband  bought  lands  in  San  Diego.  It  was  in  this  town 
that  he  made  the  acquaintance  and  friendship  of  Father 
Damaso  and  of  Don  Eafael  Ibarra,  the  richest  capitalist 
of  the  town. 

The  lack  of  an  heir  for  the  first  six  years  of  his  married 
life  gave  him  a  great  opportunity  to  accumulate  wealth, 
which  perhaps  was  a  censurable  ambition.    Although  Dona 
Pia  was  handsome,  robust  and  well  formed,   she  made 
her  pilgrimages  in  vain.    By  advice  of  the  devotees  of  San 
Diego,  she  visited  the  Virgin  of  Cayasay  in  Taal;  she 
gave  alms,  and  she  danced  in  the  procession  before  the 
Virgin  of  Turumba  in  Pakil  under  the  May  sun,  but  it 
was  all  in  vain.    Finally,  on  the  advice  of  Father  Damaso, 
she  went  to  Obando,  and  there  danced  at  the  -fiesta  of  San 
Pascual  Bailon  and  asked  for  a  son.     It  is  well  known 
that  in  Obando  there  is  a  trinity — Our  Lady  of  Salambau, 
Santa   Clara   and    San   Pascual — which   grants    sons   or 
daughters  as  required.     Thanks  to  this  wise  triumvirate. 
Dona  Pia  became  a  mother,  but  like  the  fisherman  in  Mac- 
beth, who  ceased  to  sing  after  he  found  a  rich  treasure. 
Dona  Pia  lost  her  gayety,  became  very  sad  and  was  never 
seen  to  smile  again.     Every  one,  even  to  Captain  Tiago, 
declared  that  it  was  a  pure  caprice.     A  puerperal  fever 
put  an  end  to  her  grief,  leaving  a  beautiful  daughter 
motherless.     Father  Damaso  baptized  the  child,  and,  as 
San  Pascual  had  not  given  the  son  which  had  been  asked 
for,  the  name  of  Maria  Clara  was  given  to  it  in  honor  of 
the  Virgin  of  Salambau  and  of  Santa  Clara.     The  little 
girl  grew  up  under  the  care  of  her  aunt  Isabel, — ^that  good 
old  lady  with  the  manners  of  a  friar  whom  we  met  before. 
The  little  girl  lived  the  greater  part  of  the  time  in  San 
Diego  on  account  of  the  healthful  climate,  and  while  there 
Father  Ddmaso  paid  her  much  attention. 

Maria  Clara  did  not  have  the  small  eyes  of  her  father. 


Captain  Tiago.  27 

Like  Her  motHer,  her  eyes  were  large,  black  and  shaded  by 
long  lashes,  brilliant  and  smiling  when  she  was  playing, 
but  sad,  deep  and  pensive  at  other  times.  When  a  child 
her  wavy  hair  was  almost  blond.  Her  nose  was  well 
formed,  neither  too  large  nor  too  flat.  Her  mouth  was 
small  and  beautifully  shaped  like  that  of  her  mother,  and 
her  cheeks  were  set  with  dimples.  Her  skin  was  like  silk 
and  as  white  as  snow,  but  her  fond  parent  found  traces  of 
the  paternity  of  Captain  Tiago  in  her  small  and  well 
shaped  ears. 

Aunt  Isabel  attributed  the  child's  semi-European  fea- 
tures to  impressions  made  upon  Dona  Pia.  She  remem- 
bered having  seen  the  mother  a  short  time  before  the  child 
was  bom,  weeping  before  the  image  of  San  Antonio.  Then, 
too,  a  cousin  of  Captain  Tiago  had  the  same  features,  the 
only  difference  being  in  the  choice  of  the  saints,  by  which 
the  phenomenon  was  explained.  With  her  it  was  either 
the  Virgin  or  San  Miguel.  A  cousin  of  Captain  Tiago,  a 
famous  philosopher,  who  knew  Amat*  by  heart,  explained 
it  all  by  attributing  it  to  the  effect  of  the  planets. 

Maria  Clara,  the  idol  of  all,  grew  up  surrounded  by  love 
and  smiles.  She  won  the  favor  of  even  the  friars  when  she 
was  dressed  in  white  for  some  religious  procession,  her 
long,  wavy  hair  interwoven  with  flowers,  two  silver  or 
golden  wings  attached  to  the  shoulders  of  her  dress,  and 
holding  two  white  doves,  tied  with  blue  ribbons,  in  her 
hand.  When  she  grew  up,  she  was  so  full  of  childish  mis- 
chief that  Captain  Tiago  did  nothing  but  bless  the  saints 
of  Obando  and  advise  everybody  to  buy  handsome  statues 
of  that  trinity. 

In  tropical  countries  a  girl  becomes  a  woman  at  the  age 
of  thirteen  or  fourteen  years,  like  the  plant  which  buds  at 
night  and  blooms  the  following  morning.  During  this 
period  of  transition,  so  full  of  mystery  and  romance,  on 
the  advice  of  the  parish  priest,  Maria  Clara  entered  the 
religious  retreat  of  Santa  Catalina  in  order  to  receive 
from  the  nuns  a  strictly  religious  education.  She  left 
Father  Ddmaso  in  tears,  and  likewise  the  only  friend  of 
her  childhood,  Crisostomo  Ibarra.  Shortly  after  the  en- 
trance to  the  convent,  Ibarra  went  to  Europe.    For  seven 

*  Archbishop  and  author  of  theological  works. 


28  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

long  years,  tHe  girl  lived  under  the  vigilance  of  the  Mother 
Superior  in  the  iron-grated  building,  shut  off  from  any 
communication  with  the  outer  world. 

Don  Eafael  and  Captain  Tiago,  in  the  meantime,  while 
Ibarra  was  in  Europe  and  Maria  Clara  in  the  convent, 
noticing  the  trend  of  affairs,  and  at  the  same  time  having 
in  mind  their  own  interests,  decided  that  the  children 
should  be  married.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  this  agree- 
ment, which  was  arrived  at  some  years  after  Ibarra  had 
left  for  Europe,  was  celebrated  with  equal  joy  by  two 
hearts,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  world  and  amid  very  dif- 
ferent surroundings. 


An  Idyl  on  the  Azotea.  29 


CHAPTER  y. 

AN  IDYL  ON  THE  AZOTEA.* 

On  the  morning  after  the  dinner  party,  'Annt  Isabel 
and  Maria  Clara  went  to  mass  early:  the  former  care- 
fully carrying  her  glasses,  so  that  she  might  be  able  to 
read  **The  Anchor  of  Salvation''  during  communion; 
the  latter  beautifully  dressed,  carrying  her  rosary  of  blue 
beads  as  a  bracelet.  The  priest  had  scarcely  left  the  altar 
when,  to  the  disgust  and  surprise  of  her  good  aunt,  who 
thought  that  her  niece  was  as  pious  and  as  fond  of 
prayer  as  a  nun,  the  young  girl  desired  to  go  home. 
After  a  great  deal  of  grumbling,  the  old  lady  crossed 
herself  several  times,  and  the  two  arose  to  leave. 
**Never  mind,"  said  Maria,  to  cut  off  the  scolding,  "the 
good  God  will  pardon  me.  He  ought  to  understand  the 
heart  of  a  girl  better  than  you.  Aunt  Isabel." 

Aiter  breakfast,  Maria  Clara  occupied  herself  with 
some  embroidery  while  her  aunt  bustled  about  with  a 
duster  removing  the  traces  of  the  social  event  of  the 
preceding  evening.  Captain  Tiago  was  busy  examining 
some  papers. 

Every  noise  in  the  street  and  every  passing  carriage 
made  the  girl  tremble  with  anxiety  and  wish  that  she 
were  again  back  in  the  convent  among  her  friends.  There, 
she  thought,  she  could  see  him  without  trembling  and 
with  perfect  equanimity. 

*'I  believe,  Maria,  that  the  doctor  is  right,"  said  Cap- 
tain Tiago.  ^^ou  ought  to  go  to  the  provinces.  You 
are  looking  very  pale  and  need  a  change  of  air.  How 
does  Malabon  strike  you,  or  San  Diego?" 

At  the  mere  mention  of  the  latter  name,  Maria  Clara 
blushed  and  was  unable  to  speak. 

''Now,  you  and  Isabel  go  to  the  convent  to  get  your 
*  Roof  of  the  first  story  used  as  a  veranda. 


30  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

'V, 

things  and  say  good  bye  to  your  friends,"  continued  tHe 
Captain,  without  raising  his  head.  "You  will  not  re- 
turn there.  And  in  four  or  five  days,  when  your  clothes 
are  ready  we  shall  go  to  Malabon.  — Your  godfather,  by 
the  way,  is  not  in  San  Diego  at  present.  The  priest  whom 
you  saw  here  last  night,  that  young  fellow,  is  now  the 
priest  in  the  town.     He  is  a  saint." 

"I  think  you  will  find  San  Diego  better,  cousin,"  said 
Aunt  Isabel.  "Our  house  there  is  better  than  the  one 
in  Malabon,  and  besides,  it  is  nearly  time  for  the  fiesta 
to  take  place." 

Maria  Clara  was  about  to  embrace  her  aunt  for  these 
welcome  words,  but  just  then  a  carriage  stopped  in  front 
of  the  house  and  the  young  girl  suddenly  turned  pale. 

"That's  so,"  said  the  Captain,  and  then,  in  a  changed 
tone,  exclaimed,  "Don  Crisostomo!" 

Maria  Clara  let  fall  the  work  which  she  was  holding 
in  her  hands.  A  nervous  trembling  passed  over  her. 
Then  steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs  and  presently  a 
young,  manly  voice.  And,  as  if  this  voice  had  some 
magic  power,  the  girl  shook  off  her  emotion,  started  to 
run,  and  hid  herself  in  the  oratory.  Both  father  and 
aunt  had  to  laugh  at  this,  and  even  Ibarra  heard  the 
closing  of  the  door  behind  her. 

Pale  and  panting,  the  girl  finally  subdued  her  emo- 
tion and  began  to  listen.  She  could  hear  his  voice,  that 
voice  which  for  so  long  a  time  she  had  heard  only  in  her 
dreams.  Beside  herself  with  joy,  she  kissed  the  nearest 
saint,  which,  by  the  way,  happened  to  be  San  Antonio, 
the  abbot.  Happy  saint!  Whether  alive  or  carved  in 
wood,  always  tempted  in  the  most  charming  manner! 
Becoming  quite  herself  again,  she  looked  about  for  some 
crack  through  which  she  might  get  a  peep  at  the  young 
man.  Finally,  when  he  came  in  range  of  the  key-hole 
and  she  again  saw  his  fine  features,  her  face  beamed  with 
smiles.  In  fact,  the  sight  filled  her  with  such  joy  that 
when  her  aunt  came  to  call  her,  Maria  Clara  fell  on 
the  old  lady's  neck  and  kissed  her  repeatedly. 

'*You  goose!  What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  the  old 
lady  was  finally  able  to  ask,  after  wiping  away  her 
tears. 


An  Idyl  on  the  Azotea.  31 

Maria  Clara,  in  her  modesty,  covered  her  face  with 
her  round  arm. 

'^Come!  Hurry  up  and  get  yourself  ready  I"  said  the 
old  lady  in  an  affectionate  tone.     "While  he  is  talking 

with  your  father  about  you Come,   do  not  waste 

time!" 

The  girl  did  not  respond,  but  allowed  herself  to  be 
picked  up  like  a  child  and  carried  to  her  room. 

Captain  Tiago  and  Ibarra  were  talking  earnestly 
when  at  last  Aunt  Isabel  appeared,  half  dragging  her 
niece  by  the  hand.  At  first  the  girl  looked  in  every  di- 
rection but  at  the  persons  present.  At  last,  however, 
her  eyes  met  Ibarra's. 

The  conversation  of  the  young  lovers  was  at  first  con- 
fined to  the  usual  trifling  remarks,  those  pleasant  little 
things  which,  like  the  boasts  of  European  nations,  are 
enjoyable  and  interesting  to  those  who  are  concerned 
and  understand  them,  but  ridiculous  to  outsiders. 

Finally,  she,  like  all  sisters  of  Cain,  was  moved  by 
jealously  and  asked:  "Have  you  always  thought  of  me? 
Have  you  never  forgotten  me  in  your  many  travels 
among  so  many  great  cities  and  among  such  beautiful 
women  ?" 

And  he,  a  true  brother  of  Cain,  dodged  the  issue,  and, 
being  something  of  a  diplomat,  answered:  ^'Could  I 
forget  you?'*  And  then,  gazing  into  her  deep,  dark  eyes, 
"Could  I  break  a  sacred  vow?  Do  you  remember  that 
stormy  night  when  you,  seeing  me  in  tears  beside  my 
dead  mother,  came  to  me  and  placed  your  hand — that 
hand  which  I  have  not  touched  for  so  long — upon  my 
shoulder,  and  said:  TTou  have  lost  your  mother, — I  never 
had  one.'  And  then  you  wept  with  me.  You  loved  my 
mother,  and  she  loved  you  as  only  a  mother  can  love 
a  daughter.  It  was  raining  then,  you  will  remember,  and 
the  lightning  flashed,  but  I  seemed  to  hear  music  and  to 
see  a  smile  on  the  face  of  my  dead  mother. — 0,  if  my 
parents  were  only  living  and  could  see  you  now! — That 
night  I  took  your  hand  and,  joining  it  with  my  mother's, 
I  swore  always  to  love  you  and  make  you  happy,  no  mat- 
ter what  fate  Heaven  might  have  in  store  for  me.  I 
have  never  regretted  that  vow,  and  now  renew  it/' 


32"  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

^'Since  the  day  that  I  bade  you  good-bye  and  entered 
the  convent/'  she  answered,  smiling,  '"'I  have  always 
remembered  you,  and  have  never  forgotten  you  in  spite 
of  the  commands  of  my  confessor,  who  imposed  severe 
penances  on  me.  I  remembered  the  little  games  we  used 
to  play  together  and  our  little  quarrels.  When  we  were 
children  you  used  to  find  in  the  river  the  most  beautiful 
shells  for  our  games  of  sihlot  and  the  finest  and  most 
oeautifully  colored  stones  for  our  game  of  sinkat.  You 
were  always  very  slow  and  stupid  and  lost,  but  you  al- 
ways paid  the  forfeit,  which  I  gave  you  with  the  palm 
of  my  hand.  But  I  always  tried  to  strike  lightly,  for  I 
was  sorry  for  you.  You  always  cheated,  even  more  than 
I,  in  the  game  of  chouka  and  we  generally  quarrelled 
over  it.  Do  you  remember  that  time  when  you  really 
became  angry?  Then  you  made  me  suffer,  but  when 
I  found  that  I  had  no  one  to  quarrel  with,  we  made 
peace  immediately.  We  were  still  children  when  we 
went  with  your  mother  one  day  to  bathe  in  the  stream 
under  the  shade  of  the  reeds.  Many  flowers  and  plants 
grew  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  you  used  to  tell  me 
their  strange  Latin  and  Spanish  names,  for  you  were 
then  studying  at  the  Athenaeum.  I  paid  little  attention, 
but  amused  myself  by  chasing  butterflies  and  in  trying 
to  catch  the  little  fish  which  slipped  away  from  me  so 
easily  among  the  rocks  and  weeds  of  the  shore.  You  sud- 
denly disappeared  from  sight,  but  when  you  returned 
you  brought  a  wreath  of  orange  flowers  and  placed  it  on 
my  head.  On  our  way  home,  as  the  sun  was  hot,  I  col- 
lected some  sage  leaves  from  the  side  of  the  road  for 
you  to  put  into  your  hat  and  thus  prevent  headache. 
Then  you  laughed,  we  made  up,  and  came  the  remain- 
der of  the  way  home  hand  in  hand.'' 

Ibarra  smiled  as  he  listened  attentively  to  every  de- 
tail of  the  story.  Opening  his  pocket  book,  he  took  out 
a  paper  in  which  he  had  wrapped  some  withered  but 
fragrant  sage  leaves.  "Your  sage  leaves,"  said  he  in  an- 
swer to  her  questioning  glance.  "The  only  thing  you 
have  ever  given  me." 

She,  in  turn,  drew  a  little,  white  satin  bag  from  the 
bosom  of  her  dress.  "Stop!"  she  said,  tapping  his  hand 


An  Idyl  on  the  Azotea.  33 

witH  her  own.  ^TTou  must  not  touch  it;  it  is  a  letter  of 
farewell." 

^^The  one  that  I  wrote  you  before  leaving?" 

"My  dear  sir,  have  you  ever  written  any  other?" 

"And  what  did  I  say  then?" 

"Many  falsehoods;  excuses  of  a  bad  debtor,"  replied 
she,  smiling  and  showing  how  agreeable  these  false- 
hoods had  been  to  her.  "But  be  quiet!  I  will  read  it 
to  you,  but  I  will  omit  your  polite  speeches  out  of  con- 
sideration for  your  feelings." 

Eaising  the  paper  to  the  height  of  her  eyes,  in  order 

to  conceal  her  face,  she  began.   "  *My  ,'  I  shall 

not  read  you  what  follows  that,  for  it  is  not  true."  She 
ran  her  eyes  over  some  lines  and  began  to  read  again: 
"  'My  father  wishes  me  to  go  away,  in  spite  of  my  en- 
treaties. He  says  that  I  am  a  man  and  must  think  of 
my  future  and  my  duty;  that  I  must  learn  how  to  live, 
which  I  cannot  do  in  my  own  country,  so  that  in  the 
future  I  may  be  of  some  use.  He  says  that  if  I  remain 
at  his  side,  in  his  shadow,  in  this  atmosphere  of  busi- 
ness, I  will  never  learn  how  to  look  ahead,  and  that  when 
he  is  gone,  I  shall  be  like  the  plant  of  which  our  poet 
Baltazar  speaks — as  it  always  lives  in  the  water,  it  never 
learns  how  to  endure  a  moment's  heat. — He  reproached 
me  because  I  wept,  and  his  reproach  hurt  me  so  that  I 
confessed  that  I  loved  you.  My  father  stopped,  thought  a 
moment  and,  placing  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  said  in 
a  trembling  voice:  "Do  you  think  that  you  alone  know 
how  to  love,  that  your  father  does  not  love  you,  and  that 
his  heart  is  not  pained  at  being  separated  from  you?  It 
is  a  short  time  since  your  mother  died,  and  I  am  al- 
ready reaching  that  age  when  the  help  and  counsel  of 
youth  are  needed.  And  yet  I  consent  to  your  going,  not 
even  knowing  that  I  shall  ever  see  you  again.  The  fu- 
ture is  opening  to  you,  but  closing  to  me.  Your  loves  are 
being  bom;  mine  are  dying.  Fire  blazes  in  your  blood, 
but  cold  is  gradually  finding  its  way  into  mine.  And 
yet  you  weep,  and  are  not  willing  to  sacrifice  the  present 
for  a  future  useful  to  yourself  and  your  country."  The 
eyes  of  my  father  filled  with  tears  and  I  fell  upon  my 


34  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

knees  ai  His  feet  and  embraced  him.  I  asked  His  pardon 
and  said  that  I  was  willing  to  go/ '' 

The  emotion  which  Ibarra  manifested  pnt  an  end  to 
the  reading.  As  pale  as  death,  he  arose  and  began  to 
walk  nervously  from  one  side  to  the  other. 

**What  is  the  matter?"  she  asked. 

"You  have  made  me  forget  that  I  have  duties  to  per- 
form, and  that  I  ought  to  leave  immediately  for  my 
town.     To-morrow  is  the  fiesta  in  memory  of  the  dead.'* 

Maria  Clara  stopped  and  silently  fixed  her  large  and 
dreamy  eyes  upon  him  for  some  minutes.  Then  taking 
some  flowers  from  a  vase  near  by,  she  said  with  emotion: 
"Go!  I  do  not  wish  to  detain  you.  We  shall  see  each 
other  again  in  a  few  days.  Place  these  flowers  on  the 
graves  of  your  father  and  mother." 

A  few  moments  later,  Ibarra  descended  the  stairs,  ac- 
companied by  Captain  Tiago  and  Dona  Isabel,  while 
Maria  Clara  locked  herself  up  in  the  oratory. 

"Do  me  the  favor  to  tell  Andeng  to  get  the  house  ready, 
and  that  Maria  and  Isabel  are  coming.  A  pleasant 
journey!"  While  the  Captain  was  saying  this,  Ibarra 
got  into  the  carriage  and  drove  off  in  the  direction  of 
the  Plaza  of  San  Gabriel. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  Captain  shouted  to  Maria 
Clara,  who  was  weeping  by  the  side  of  the  image  of  the 
Virgin:  "Hurry  up  and  light  two  peseta  candles  in  honor 
of  San  Roque  and  another  in  honor  of  San  Rafael,  the 
patron  saint  of  travellers.  And  light  the  lamp  of  Our 
Lady  of  Peace  and  Protector  of  Travellers,  for  there 
are  many  bandits  about.  It  is  better  to  spend  four 
reales  for  wax  and  six  cuartos  for  oil  than  to  have  to 
pay  a  big  ransom  later,  on." 


Things  Philippine.  35 


CHAPTER  yi. 


THINGS  PHILIPPINE. 


Father  Damaso  drove  up  in  front  oi  Captain  Tiago's 
house  and  the  Franciscan  stepped  to  the  ground  just  as 
Aunt  Isabel  and  Maria  Clara  were  getting  into  their  silver- 
trimmed  carriage.  They  saluted  Father  Damaso,  and  he, 
in  his  preoccupation,  gently  patted  Maria  Clara  on  the 
cheek. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  the  friar  asked. 

"To  the  convent  to  get  my  things/'  replied  the  younger. 

"Ah,  ha !  Ah,  ha !  We'll  see  who  is  the  stronger.  We'll 
see!"  he  muttered  and  turaed  away,  leaving  the  two 
women  in  wonder  as  to  what  it  all  meant.  The  friar 
stepped  along  lightly,  and  reaching  the  stairs,  went  up. 

"He  must  be  studying  his  sermon,"  said  Isabel.  "Get 
in,  Maria ;  we  shall  be  late." 

Whether  Father  Damaso  was  studying  his  sermon  or 
not  we  cannot  say.  At  any  rate,  he  was  absorbed  in  some 
important  matter,  for  he  even  forgot  to  extend  his  hand 
to  Captain  Tiago  upon  entering,  greatly  to  the  embarrass- 
ment of  the  Captain,  who  had  to  feign  kissing  it. 

"Santiago,  we  have  some  very  important  matters  to  talk 
over;  let  us  go  to  your  office." 

The  Captain,  somewhat  disturbed,  was  unable  to  reply, 
but  he  obeyed  and  followed  the  big  priest  into  his  office. 
Father  Damaso  shut  the  door  behind  them. 

While  they  are  conferring  in  secret,  let  us  find  out  what 
has  become  of  Brother  Sibyla.  The  wise  Dominican  was 
not  to  be  found  at  his  parochial  residence,  for  early,  im- 
mediately after  mass,  he  had  gone  to  the  Dominican  con- 
vent, situated  near  the  gate  called  Isabel  the  Second  or 
Magallanes,  according  to  which  family  is  in  power  in 
Madrid.  Paying  no  attention  to  the  delicious  odor  of 
chocolate  or  to  the  rattling  of  money  boxes  and  coins  in 


36  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

the  treasurer's  office,  and  scarcely  answering  the  defer- 
ential salute  of  the  treasurer,  Father  Sibyla  went  upstairs, 
crossed  several  corridors  and  rapped  on  a  door. 

"Come  in  V  answered  a  voice. 

"May  God  give  back  health  to  Your  Eeverence!"  was 
the  greeting  of  the  young  Dominican  as  he  entered. 

A  very  feeble  old  priest  was  seated  in  a  large  arm-chair. 
His  complexion  was  as  yellow  as  the  saints  which  Kevera 
paints;  his  eyes  were  sunk  deep  in  their  orbits,  and  his 
heavy  eyebrows,  which  were  nearly  always  knit  in  a  frown, 
added  to  the  brilliant  glare  of  his  death-foreboding  eyes. 

"I  have  come  to  talk  to  you  about  the  charge  with  which 
you  have  entrusted  me,"  said  Father  Siblya. 

*^Ah,  yes.    And  what  about  it?" 

"Pshaw!"  answered  the  young  man  with  disgust,  seat- 
ing himself  and  turning  his  face  away  with  disdain.  "They 
have  been  telling  us  a  lot  of  lies.  Young  Ibarra  is  a 
prudent  boy.  He  does  not  seem  to  be  a  fool.  I  think  he 
is  a  pretty  good  sort  of  a  chap." 

"Do  you  think  so  ?" 

"Hostilities  began  last  night.'' 

"So  soon  ?    And  how  did  it  come  about  ?'* 

Father  Sibyla  related  briefly  what  had  taken  place  be- 
tween Father  Damaso  and  Crisostomo  Ibarra. 

"Furthermore,"  he  added,  in  conclusion,  "the  young 
man  is  going  to  marry  that  daughter  of  Captain  Tiago, 
who  was  educated  in  the  college  of  our  sisters.  He  is  rich 
and  would  not  want  to  make  any  enemies  who  might  cause 
the  loss  of  his  happiness  and  his  fortune." 

The  sick  man  bowed  his  head  as  a  sign  of  assent.  'TTes, 
that  is  my  opinion.  With  such  a  wife  and  such  a  father- 
in-law  we  can  hold  him  body  and  soul.  And  if  not,  it  will 
be  all  the  better  for  us  if  he  declares  himself  our  enemy." 

Father  Sibyla  looked  at  the  old  man  with  surprise. 

"That  is  to  say,  for  the  good  of  our  whole  corporation,'* 
he  added,  breathing  with  difficulty.  "I  prefer  open  attacks 
to  the  foolish  praise  and  adulations  of  friends,  for,  the 
truth  is,  flattery  is  always  paid  for." 

"Does  Your  Reverence  think  so  ?" 

The  old  man  looked  at  him  sadly.  "Always  bear  this  in 
mind,"  he  answered,  panting  with  fatigue,   *^that  ouc 


Things  Philippine.  37 

power  will  endure  as  long  as  it  is  believed  in.  If  they 
attack  ns,  the  Government  says,  ^They  attack  them,  be- 
cause they  see  in  them  an  obstacle  to  their  liberty,  there- 
fore let  us  preserve  them/  '^ 

"And  if  the  Government  gives  them  a  hearing  ?.  Some- 
times the  Government " 

"The  Government  will  do  no  such  thing/^ 

"Nevertheless,  if  some  bold  and  reckless  man,  impelled 
by  covetousness,  should  dare  to  think  that  he  wanted  our 
possessions ^* 

"Then,  woe  to  him !" 

For  a  moment  both  remained  silent. 

"Furthermore,''  continued  the  sick  man,  "it  will  do  us 
good  to  have  them  attack  us  and  wake  us  up.  It  would 
show  us  our  weaknesses  and  strengthen  us.  The  exagger- 
ated praises  which  we  get  deceive  us,  and  put  us  asleep. 
We  are  becoming  ridiculous  and  on  the  day  that  we  become 
ridiculous  we  shall  fall  as  we  fell  in  Europe.  Money  will 
no  longer  flow  into  our  churches,  no  one  will  longer  buy 
our  scapularies  or  girdles,  and  when  we  cease  to  be  rich 
we  shall  no  longer  possess  the  great  influence  which  we 
wield  at  present." 

"Pshaw !  We  shall  always  have  our  property,  our  plan- 
tations  '' 

"We  shall  lose  them  all  as  we  lost  them  in  Europe.  And 
the  worst  of  it  is  that  we  are  working  for  our  own  ruin. 
For  instance,  this  immeasurable  ambition  to  raise  the  in- 
comes from  our  lands  each  year,  this  eagerness  to  increase 
the  rents,  which  I  have  always  opposed  in  vain,  this  eager- 
ness will  be  our  ruin.  The  natives  already  find  them- 
selves forced  to  buy  land  in  other  localities  if  they  want 
lands  as  good  as  ours.  I  fear  that  we  are  degenerating. 
'Whom  the  gods  would  destroy  they  first  make  mad.'  For 
this  reason  we  should  not.be  too  hard  on  the  people,  for 
they  are  already  grumbling  under  our  exactions.  You 
have  considered  well.  Let  us  leave  this  thing  to  others, 
and  keep  up  the  prestige  which  we  have  and  let  us  en- 
deavor to  appear  before  God  with  clean  hands.  May  the 
God  of  pity  have  mercy  on  our  weaknesses !" 
■    "So  you  believe  that  the  tax  or  tribute ^" 

*'Let  us  talk  no  more  of  money!"  interrupted  the  sick 


38  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

man  witH  disgust.  *^You  were  saying  that  the  lieutenant 
and  Father  Damaso  last  night '' 

'TTes,  Father/^  answered  the  young  priest  smiling.  "But 
this  morning  I  saw  the  lieutenant  again  and  he  told  me 
that  he  was  sorry  for  what  had  occurred  at  the  dinner. 
He  said  he  thought  that  he  had  been  affected  by  too  much 
wine  and  that  the  same  was  true  of  Father  Damaso.  *^And 
your  boast  to  tell  the  Governor?'  I  asked  jokingly. 
'Father/  he  answered,  *I  know  when  to  make  my  word 
good  so  long  as  it  does  not  stain  my  honor.  That  is  just 
the  reason  why  I  wear  only  two  stars.' " 

After  talking  over  several  minor  matters.  Father  Sibyla 
took  his  leave. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  lieutenant  had  not  gone  to  the 
Governor  General's  palace  in  Melacanan  with  any  report 
in  regard  to  the  occurrence  of  the  preceding  evening.  How- 
ever, the  Governor  General  had  learned  of  it  through  an- 
other source,  and  discussing  the  matter  with  one  of  his 
aides,  he  said : 

"A  woman  and  a  priest  can  give  no  offense.  I  intend 
to  live  peaceably  while  I  remain  in  this  country  and  I  do 
not  wish  to  have  any  trouble  with  men  who  wear  skirts. 
And,  furthermore,  I  have  found  out  that  the  Father  Pro- 
vincial has  evaded  my  orders  in  this  matter.  I  asked  for 
the  removal  of  that  friar  as  a  punishment.  What  was 
done  ?  They  removed  him,  but  they  gave  him  another  and 
much  better  town.  'Tricks  of  the  friars,'  as  they  say  in 
Spain." 

But  when  His  Excellency  found  himself  alone  he  ceased 
to  smile.  ''Ah!"  he  sighed,  "if  the  people  were  not  so 
stupid  they  would  put  a  limit  to  their  reverences.  But 
every  people  deserves  its  fate,  and  we  are  no  different  in 
this  respect  from  the  rest  of  the  world." 

Meanwhile  Captain  Tiago  had  concluded  his  conference 
with  Father  Damaso,  or  rather  Father  Damaso  had  con- 
cluded it. 

"I  have  already  warned  you!"  said  the  Franciscan  on 
taking  his  leave.  "You  could  have  avoided  all  of  this  had 
you  consulted  with  me  before,  and,  if  you  had  not  lied  to 
me,  when  I  asked  you  about  it.    See  to  it  that  you  do  not 


Things  Philippine.  39 

do  any  more  such  foolish  things,  and  have  faith  in  your 
godfather." 

Captain  Tiago  took  two  or  three  steps  towards  the  sola, 
meditating  and  sighing.  All  at  once,  as  if  some  good  idea 
had  struck  him,  he  ran  to  the  oratory  and  put  out  the 
candles  and  the  lamps  which  had  been  lighted  for  Ibarra's 
protection. 

"There  is  still  time  enough,"  he  murmured,  "for  he  has 
a  long  road  to  travel." 


40  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTEE   YIL 

SAN"   DIEGO   AND   ITS   PEOPLE. 

Not  far  from  the  shores  of  the  Laguna  de  Bay  lies 
the  town  of  San  Diego,  surrounded  by  fertile  fields  and 
rice  plantations.  It  exports  sugar,  rice,  coffee,  and  fruits, 
or  sells  them  at  ridiculously  low  prices  to  the  Chinese, 
who  make  large  profits  out  of  the  credulity  and  vices  of 
the  laborers. 

When  the  sky  was  serene  and  the  atmosphere  clear,  the 
boys  used  to  climb  to  the  very  peak  of  the  old  moss  and 
vine  covered  church  tower.  And  what  exclamations  the;^ 
would  utter  when,  from  that  high  pinnacle,  they  looked 
out  at  the  beautiful  panorama  that  surrounded  them. 
There  before  them  lay  a  great  mass  of  roofs,  some  nipa, 
some  thatch,  some  zinc  and  some  made  out  of  the  native 
grasses.  And  out  of  that  mass,  which  here  and  there  gave 
way  to  an  orchard  or  a  garden,  every  one  of  those  boys 
could  find  his  own  little  home,  his  own  little  nest.  To 
them  everything  was  a  landmark;  every  tamarind  tree 
with  its  light  foliage,  every  cocoanut  tree  with  its  load  of 
nuts,  every  bending  cane,  every  hong  a  tree,  every  cross. 
Beyond  the  town  is  the  crystal  river,  like  a  serpent  asleep 
on  a  carpet  ot  grppjv^  Here  and  there,  its  tranquil  surface 
is  broken  by  rocks  projecting  from  its  sandy  bottom.  In 
places,  it  is  hemmed  in  between  two  high  banks,  and  there 
the  rapidly  rushing  waters  turn  and  twist  the  half-bared 
roots  of  the  overhanging  shade  trees.  But  further  on  it 
spreads  itself  out  again  and  becomes  calm  and  peaceful. 

But  what  always  attracts  attention  is  a  peninsula  •i 
forest  projecting  into  this  sea  of  cultivated  land.  There 
can  be  found  hollow-trunked  trees,  a  century  old,  trees 
which  die  only  when  struck  by  lightning  and  set  on  fire. 
They  say,  also,  that  even  in  that  case  the  fire  never  spreads 
to  any  other  tree.  This  old  grove  is  held  in  a  certain  de- 
gree of  awe,  for  around  it  have  been  woven  many  strange 


San  Diego  and  the  People.  41 

legends.     Of  these  the  most  probable,  and  consequently  ' 
the  least  known  and  believed  is  the  following: 

When  the  town  was  still  a  miserable  group  of  huts,  when 
weeds  grew  in  abundance  in  the  so-called  streets,  and  deer 
and  wild  boar  roamed  about  at  night,  there  arrived  one 
day  an  old  Spaniard.  His  eyes  were  deep  and  thoughtful 
and  he  spoke  Tagalog  fluently.  After  visiting  the  difierent 
estates  and  peddling  out  some  goods  he  inquired  for  the 
owners  of  this  grove,  which  by  the  way,  also  contained 
several  hot  water  springs.  A  number  of  persons  claiming 
to  be  the  owners  presented  themselves,  and  the  old  man 
purchased  from  them  the  grove,  paying  in  exchange  some 
money,  jewelry  and  clothing.  A  short  time  afterward  he 
disappeared,  no  one  knew  where. 

His  sudden  disappearance  made  the  people  think  for  a 
time  that  he  had  been  spirited  away,  but  later  on  a  fetid 
odor  was  noticeable  near  the  grove,  and  some  shepherds, 
upon  investigation,  found  the  body  of  the  old  man  in  a 
badly  decomposed  condition  hanging  from  the  limb  of  a 
haliti  tree.  When  alive  the  old  man  had  terrorized  many 
by  his  deep  and  resonant  voice,  his  sunken  eyes  and  his 
silent  laugh,  but  now  that  he  was  dead,  and  a  suicide  at 
that,  the  mere  mention  of  his  name  gave  the  town  women 
nightmare.  Some  of  them  threw  the  jewelry  that  they 
had  bought  from  him  into  the  river  and  burned  all  the 
clothing,  and,  for  a  long  time  after  the  body  had  been 
buried  at  the  foot  of  the  baliti  tree,  no  one  cared  to  ven- 
ture near  it.  All  sort  of  stories  became  current  about  the 
haunted  place. 

A  shepherd,  looking  for  his  flock,  said  that  he  had  seen 
lights  in  the  grove.  A  party  of  young  men,  passing  near 
the  place,  heard  groans  and  lamentations.  An  unfortunate 
lover,  in  order  to  make  an  impression  on  the  disdainful 
object  of  his  affections,  promised  to  spend  a  night  under 
the  tree  and  to  bring  her  a  branch  from  its  trunk,  but  on 
the  next  day  he  was  taken  ill  with  a  quick  fever  and  died. 

Before  many  months  had  passed,  a  youth  came  to  the 
town  one  day.  He  was  apparently  a  Spanish  mestizo,  de- 
clared himself  the  son  of  the  dead  stranger,  and  estab- 
lished himself  in  that  far-off  corner  of  the  world.  He  be- 
gan to  farm  the  land  and  devoted  himself  especially  if 


42  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

the  cultivation  of  indigo.  Don  Saturnino  was  a  taciturn 
young  man,  violent  and  sometimes  cruel,  but  very  active 
and  industrious.  He  built  a  wall  around  his  father's 
grave  and,  from  time  to  time,  went  all  alone  to  visit  it. 
A  few  years  later  he  married  a  young  girl  from  Manila 
who  bore  him  a  son,  Rafael,  the  father  of  Crisostomo. 

Don  Rafael,  from  his  earliest  youth,  was  fond  of  farm- 
ing. Under  his  care,  the  agriculture  which  had  been 
started  and  fostered  by  his  father  was  rapidly  developed. 
New  inhabitants  flocked  to  the  vicinity,  and  among  them 
were  a  great  many  Chinese.  The  village  grew  very  fast 
and  was  soon  supporting  a  native  priest.  After  it  had  be- 
come a  puehlo,  the  native  priest  died  and  Fathei:  Damaso 
took  his  place. 

Still  the  grave  and  the  adjoining  lands  were  respected. 
At  times,  children,  armed  with  sticks  and  stones,  ven- 
tured to  wander  about,  exploring  the  surrounding  country 
and  gathering  guayabas,  papays,  lomboy  and  other  native 
fruits.  Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  while  they  were  busily  en- 
gaged collecting  the  fruits,  some  one  would  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  old  rope  hanging  from  the  haliti  tree,  and  stones 
would  be  heard  to  fall.  Then  some  one  would  cry,  "The 
old  man!"  "The  old  man!"  Dropping  fruit,  sticks  and 
stones,  and  leaping  from  the  trees,  the  boys  would  flee  in 
all  directions  through  the  thickets  and  between  the  rocks, 
not  stopping  until  they  emerged  from  the  grove,  pale  and 
panting,  some  laughing,  some  crying. 

You  could  not  say  that  Don  Rafael,  while  alive,  was 
the  most  influential  man  in  San  Diego,  although  it  is  true 
that  he  was  the  richest,  owned  the  most  land,  and  had  put 
almost  everybody  else  under  obligations  to  him.  He  was 
modest  and  always  belittled  his  own  deeds.  He  never 
tried  to  form  a  party  of  his  own,  and,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  no  one  came  to  his  aid  when  his  fortune  seemed  to 
fail  him. 

Whenever  Captain  Tiago  arrived  in  town,  his  debtors 
received  him  with  an  orchestra,  gave  him  a  banquet,  and 
loaded  him  down  with  gifts.  If  a  deer  or  a  wild  boar  was 
caught  he  always  had  a  quarter  of  it  for  his  own  table ;  if 
any  of  his  debtors  found  a  beautiful  horse,  within  a  half 
hour  it  would  be  in  the  Captain's  stable.    All  of  this  is 


San  Diego  and  the  People.  43 

true,  but  still  when  the  Captain  had  his  back  turned  they 
made  fun  of  him  and  referred  to  him  as  Sacristan  Tiago. 

The  gobernadorcillo  *  was  an  unhappy  fellow  who  never 
commanded  but  always  obeyed;  he  never  attacked  any 
one,  but  was  always  attacked;  he  never  ordered  anybody, 
but  everybody  ordered  him;  and  besides,  he  had  to  take 
the  responsibility  for  everything  that  they  had  commanded, 
ordered  or  disposed.  The  position  had  cost  him  five  thou- 
sand pesos  and  many  humiliations,  bu.t,  considering  the 
profits  he  made,  the  price  was  very  cheap. 

San  Diego  was  like  Home ;  not  the  Kome  of  the  time  of 
Romulus,  when  he  marked  out  the  walls  with  a  plough, 
nor  when,  later,  he  bathed  in  his  own  blood  and  that  of 
others  and  dictated  laws  to  the  world:  no,  San  Diego  was 
like  the  Rome  of  contemporaneous  history,  with  this  dif- 
ference— instead  of  being  a  city  of  marble,  monuments 
and  coliseums,  it  was  a  city  of  saiuzlif  and  cock-pits.  The 
parochial  priest  of  San  Diego  corresponded  to  the  Pope  in 
the  Vatican;  -the  alferez\  of  the  Civil  Guard  to  the  King 
of  Italy  in  the  Quirinal,  but  both  in  the  same  proportion 
as  the  sauali  or  native  wood  and  the  nipa  cock-pits  corre- 
sponded to  the  monuments  of  marble  and  coliseums.  And 
in  San  Diego,  as  in  Rome,  there  was  continual  trouble. 
Everybody  wanted  to  be  the  leading  senor,  and  there  was 
always  some  one  else  in  the  way.  Let  us  describe  two  of 
these  ambitious  citizens. 

Friar  Bemando  Salvi  was  the  young  and  silent  Fran- 
ciscan whom  we  mentioned  in  a  preceding  chapter.  He 
had  even  more  of  the  customs  and  manners  of  his  brother- 
hood than  had  his  predecessor,  the  violent  Father  Damaso. 
He  was  slender,  sickly,  almost  always  pensive,  and  verj* 
strict  in  the  fulfillment  of  his  religious  duties  as  well  as 
very  careful  of  his  good  name.  A  month  after  his  arrival 
in  the  parish  almost  all  the  inhabitants  became  brothers 
of  the  "Venerable  Third  Order,"  to  the  great  grief  of  its 
rival,  "The  Brotherhood  of  the  Most  Sacred  Rosary."  His 
heart  leaped  with  joy  at  seeing  on  every  neck  in  the  town 

*  Petty  governor,  the  highest  local  official. 

t  Trellis  work  made  of  reeds . 

%  Local  commaiider  of  the  Civil  Guard, 


44  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

from  four  to  five  scapularies,  a  knotted  cord  around  every 
waist,  and  every  funeral  procession  dressed  in  habits  of 
guingon.  The  sacristan  mayor  or  head  warden  of  the  order 
made  quite  a  little  capital  by  selling  and  giving  away  all 
those  things  considered  necessary  to  save  the  soul  and 
overcome  the  devil. 

The  only  enemy  of  this  powerful  soul  saver,  with  ten- 
dencies in  accord  with  the  times,  was,  as  we  have  already 
stated,  the  alferez.  The  women  relate  a  story  of  how  the 
devil  tried  one  day  to  tempt  Father  Salvi  and  how  the 
latter  caught  him,  tied  him  to  the  bed  post,  whipped  him 
with  a  lash  and  kept  him  tied  fast  for  nine  days.  Thus 
he  had  been  able  to  conquer  the  devil  entirely.  As  a  result, 
any  one  who  persisted  in  being  an  enemy  of  the  priest  was 
generally  considered  a  worse  man  than  the  devil  himself — 
an  honor  which  the  alferez  alone  enjoyed.  But  he  merited 
this  reputation.  He  had  a  wife,  an  old,  powdered  and 
painted  Filipino  by  the  name  of  Dona  Consolacion.  The 
husband  and  several  other  people  called  her  by  a  different 
name,  but  that  does  not  matter.  Anyway,  the  alferez  was 
accustomed  to  drown  the  sorrows  of  unhappy  wedlock  by 
getting  as  drunk  as  a  toper.  Then,  when  he  was  thorough- 
ly intoxicated  he  would  order  his  men  to  drill  in  the  sun, 
he  himself  remaining  in  the  shade,  or,  perhaps,  he  would 
occupy  himself  in  beating  his  wife. 

When  her  husband  was  dead  drunk,  or  was  snoring  away 
in  a  siesta,  and  Dona  Consolacion  could  not  fight  with 
him,  then,  wearing  a  blue  flannel  shirt,  she  would  seat  her- 
self in  the  window,  with  a  cigar  in  her  mouth.  She  had 
a  dislike  of  children  and  so  from  her  window  she  would 
scowl  and  make  faces  at  every  girl  that  passed.  The  girls, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  afraid  of  her,  and  would  hurry  by 
at  a  quick  pace,  never  daring  to  raise  their  eyes  or  draw  a 
breath.  But  say  what  you  may,  Dona  Consolacion  had 
one  great  virtue;  she  was  never  known  to  look  into  a 
mirror. 

These  were  the  leading  people  of  San  Diego. 

Toward  the  west  of  San  Diego,  surrounded  by  rice  fields, 
lies  a  village  of  the  dead.  A  single,  narrow  path,  dusty 
on  dry  days,  and  navigable  by  boats  when  it  rains,  leads 
thither  from  the  town.     A  wooden  gate,  and  a  fence. 


San  Diego  and  the  People.  45 

iialf  stone  and  half  bamboo,  seem  to  separate  the  cemetery 
from  the  people  in  the  town,  but  not  from  the  goats  and 
sheep  of  the  parochial  priest  of  the  immediate  vicinity. 
These  animals  go  in  and  out  to  rummage  among  the  tombs 
or  to  make  that  solitary  place  glad  with  their  presence. 

One  day  a  little  old  man  entered  the  cemetery,  his  eyes 
sparkling  and  his  head  uncovered.  Upon  seeing  him, 
many  laughed,  while  a  number  of  the  women  knit  their 
eyebrows  in  scorn.  The  old  man  seemed  to  take  no  notice 
of  these  manifestations,  but  went  directly  toward  a  pile 
of  skulls,  knelt  down  and  began  to  search  among  the 
bones.  After  he  had  sorted  over  with  considerable  care  the 
skulls  one  by  one,  he  drew  his  eyebrows  together,  as  though 
he  did  not  find  what  he  was  looking  for,  moved  his  head 
from  side  to  side,  looked  in  all  directions,  and  finally  got 
up  and  went  over  toward  a  grave-digger. 

"Eh,  there !"  he  shouted  to  him. 

The  grave-digger  raised  his  head. 

^'Do  you  know  where  that  beautiful  skull  is,  the  one 
white  as  the  meat  of  a  cocoanut,  with  a  complete  set  of 
teeth,  which  I  had  over  there  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  under 
those  leaves?" 

The  grave-digger  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Look  you!"  added  the  little  old  man,  bringing  out  of 
his  pocket  a  handful  of  silver.  "I  have  more  than  that, 
but  I  will  give  it  to  you  if  you  find  the  skull  for  me." 

The  glitter  of  the  coin  made  the  grave-digger  reflect. 
He  looked  over  in  the  direction  of  the  bone  pile  and  said : 
"Isn't  it  over  there?  No?  Then  I  don't  know  where 
it  is." 

"Don't  you  know?  When  my  debtors  pay  me,  I  will 
give  you  more,"  continued  the  old  man.  "It  was  my  wife's 
skull,  and  if  you  find  it  for  me ^" 

"Isn't  it  there.  Then  I  don't  know  where  it  is,"  re- 
peated the  grave-digger  with  emphasis.  "But  I  will  give 
you  another." 

"You  are  like  the  grave  that  you  are  digging,"  cried 
the  old  man  irritably.  "You  don't  know  the  value  of  what 
you  lose.     For  whom  is  this  grave?" 

"For  a  dead  person,  of  course/'  replied  the  bad-humored 
man. 


46  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

'Tjike  a  tomb!  Like  a  tomb!"  repeated  tHe  old  man 
dryly.  "You  don't  know  what  you  throw  out  nor  what 
you  swallow.    Dig !  dig !" 

At  this  the  old  man,  who  was  Tasio,  the  village  phi- 
losopher, turned  and  started  toward  the  gate. 

In  the  meantime,  the  grave-digger  had  finished  his  job, 
and  two  little  mounds  of  fresh,  red  clay  were  piled  on 
either  side  of  the  grave.  He  took  some  betel  nut  out  of 
his  broad-brimmed  hat,  and  began  to  chew  away,  looking 
with  an  air  of  stupidity  at  eve^hing  within  his  horizon. 


Ibarra  and  the  Grave-Digger.  47 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

IBAREA  AND  THE  GRAVE-DIGGER. 

Just  as  the  old  man  was  leaving  the  cemetery,  a  car- 
riage stopped  at  the  entrance.  It  looked  as  though  it 
had  made  a  long  journey;  the  horses  were  sweating  and 
the  vehicle  was  covered  with  dust.  Ibarra  stepped  out 
and  was  followed  by  an  old  servant.  He  made  a  gesture 
to  the  driver  and  then  turned  down  the  path  into  the 
cemetery.    He  was  silent  and  grave. 

"My  sickness  and  my  work  have  not  permitted  me  to 
return,  since  the  day  of  the  funeral,"  said  the  old  serv- 
ant timidly.  "Captain  Tiago  said  that  he  would  see  to 
it  that  a  niche  was  arranged  for,  but  I  planted  some 
flowers  on  the  grave  and  erected  a  cross  made  by  my 
own  hands." 

Ibarra  did  not  reply. 

"Right  there  behind  that  large  cross,  senor,"  con- 
tinued the  servant,  making  a  gesture  toward  one  of  the 
comers  just  as  they  passed  through  the  gate. 

Ibarra  was  so  preoccupied  with  sad  thoughts  that  he 
did  not  notice  the  astonishment  which  some  of  the  people 
in  the  cemetery  manifested  when  they  saw  him  enter. 
Those  who  were  kneeling  broke  off  their  prayers  and  fol- 
lowed the  young  man,  their  eyes  full  of  curiosity. 

Ibarra  walked  along  very  carefully,  and  avoided  step- 
ping on  the  graves,  which  could  be  easily  distinguished 
by  the  sunken  ground.  In  other  times  he  had  walked 
over  them;  but  to-day  he  respected  them.  His  father 
lay  in  one  of  them.  On  coming  to  the  other  side  of  the 
large  cross,  he  stopped  and  looked  in  all  directions.  His 
companion  was  confused  and  out  of  countenance.  He 
searched  for  marks  on  the  ground  but  could  not  find 
the  cross  anywhere. 

"Is  it  here?"  he  murmured  between  his  teeth.  '*lTo,  it 
i9  over  there^  but  the  earth  has  been  removed*"'   .,..  -y^_. 


48  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Ibarra  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  of  angtiish. 

"Yes/^  he  continued.  "I  remember  that  there  was  a 
stone  by  the  side  of  the  grave.  The  grave  was  a  little 
short,  a  farm  hand  had  to  dig  it,  as  the  grave-digger 
was  sick  at  the  time,  but  we  will  ask  him  what  he  has 
done  with  the  cross." 

They  turned  toward  the  grave-digger,  who  looked  at 
them  with  curiosity.  He  saluted  them,  taking  o2  his 
hat. 

^Tan  you  tell  us  which  of  the  graves  over  there  is  the 
one  which  had  a  cross?"  asked  the  servant. 

The  grave-digger  looked  toward  the  place  and  seemed 
to  reflect.     "A  large  cross?" 

"Yes,  a  large  cross,"  answered  the  old  man  with  joy, 
looking  significantly  at  Ibarra,  whose  face  was  some- 
what animated. 

"An  ornamented  cross,  and  fastened  with  reeds?"  re- 
peated the  grave-digger,  questioning  the  servant. 

"That's  it,  that's  it,  yes,  yes!  Like  this,  like  this," 
and  the  servant  traced  an  outline  of  a  Byzantine  cross. 

"And   were  there  some  flowers  sown  on  the  grave?" 

'^Adelphas,  sampagas  and  pansies!  That's  it,"  added 
the  servant,  delighted,  and  offering  the  grave-digger 
a  cigar.  "Tell  us  where  the  grave  is  and  where  the 
cross." 

The  grave-digger  scratched  his  ear  and  replied,  yawning : 
"Well,  the  cross — I  have  already  burned  it  up." 

"Burned  it?  and  why  have  you  burned  it?" 

"Because  the  head  priest  so  ordered." 

"Who  is  the  head  priest?"  asked  Ibarra. 

"Who?     The  one  who  does  the  whipping." 

Ibarra  put  his  hand  to  his  head. 

"But  you  can  at  least  tell  us  where  the  grave  is?  You 
ought  to  remember." 

The  grave-digger  smiled.  "The  body  is  no  longer 
there,"  he  replied  tranquilly. 

"What  do  you  say?" 

'TTes,  no  longer,"  the  man  added  in  a  Joking  tone. 
"Only  a  week  ago  I  buried  a  woman  in  its  place." 

"Are  you  crazy?"  the  servant  asked,  ^^hy,  it  is  not 
yet  a  year  since  we  buried  him." 


Ibarra  and  the  Grave-Digger.  49 

*'Then  that  is  the  one,  for  it  was  many  months  ago 
that  I  took  up  the  body.  The  head  priest  of  the  parish 
ordered  me  to  do  it,  in  order  to  bury  it  in  the  Chinese 
cemetery.  But  as  it  was  heavy  and  it  was  raining  that 
night '^ 

The  man  could  not  finish.  He  stepped  back,  half 
frightened  at  the  expression  on  Crisostomo's  face. 
Ibarra  made  a  rush  at  him,  and,  grabbing  him  by  the 
arm,  shook  him. 

"And  what  did  you  do?"  the  young  man  asked,  in  an 
indescribable  tone. 

"Honored  sir,  do  not  get  angry,"  he  replied,  pale  and 
trembling.  "I  did  not  bury  the  body  among  the  Chi- 
nese. In  my  opinion  a  person  might  better  be  a  suicide 
than  be  buried  among  the  Chinese.  I  threw  the  body 
into  the  lake." 

Ibarra  laid  both  his  hands  on  the  man's  shoulders  and 
looked  at  him  for  a  long  time  in  a  terrifying  manner. 
"You  are  only  an  unfortunate  fellow,"  he  said,  at  last, 
and  left  the  place  on  a  run  across  bones,  graves,  and 
crosses,  like  a  madman. 

The  grave-digger  felt  of  his  arm  and  murmured: 
"What  would  they  do  with  the  dead!  The  head  priest 
whips  me  with  his  cane  for  having  left  the  body  in  the 
cemetery  when  I  was  sick.  Now  this  fellow  comes  along 
and  nearly  breaks  my  arm  for  having  taken  it  up.  That 
is  just  like  the  Spaniards!     I'll  lose  my  place  yet." 

Ibarra  went  on  in  great  haste,  keeping  his  eyes  fixed 
in  the  distance.  The  old  servant  followed  him,  crying. 
Already  the  sun  was  hidden;  a  large,  dark  cloud  hung 
over  the  western  horizon;  and  a  dry  wind  bent  the  tops 
of  the  trees  and  made  the  fields  of  sugar  cane  groan. 
With  hat  in  hand,  he  went  on.  Not  one  tear  dropped 
from  his  eye,  not  one  sigh  came  from  his  breast.  He 
hurried  on  as  if  he  were  fleeing  from  somebody,  or  some- 
thing— perhaps  the  shade  of  his  father,  perhaps  the 
tempest  which  was  approaching.  He  hurried  through 
the  town  and  headed  toward  the  outlying  country,  to- 
ward that  old  house  which  he  had  not  entered  for  so  many 
years.  The  house  was  surrounded  by  a  wall,  near  which 
many  cacti  grew,  and  as  he  approached  they  seemed  to 


50  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

signal  to  him.  The  windows  seemed  to  open,  the  Hang- 
Hang  joyfully  waved  its  branches,  and  the  doves  fluttered 
about  the  little  tower  on  the  peak  of  their  garden  house. 

But  the  young  man  did  not  notice  these  signs  of  wel- 
come on  his  return  to  his  old  home.  His  eyes  were  riv- 
eted on  the  form  of  a  priest  who  was  advancing  from 
the  opposite  direction.  It  was  the  priest  of  San  Diego, 
that  meditative  Franciscan,  the  enemy  of  the  alfercz 
whom  we  have  mentioned.  The  wind  was  playing  with 
the  wide  wings  of  his  hat,  and  the  robe  of  guingon  was 
flattened  out,  moulded  by  the  wind  to  the  outline  of  his 
form,  marking  his  slender  thighs  and  bow-legs.  In  his 
right  hand  he  carried  a  cane.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
he  and  Ibarra  had  met. 

As  they  approached  each  other,  the  young  man 
stopped  and  looked  at  him  fixedly.  Father  Salvi  avoided 
the  look  and  was  somewhat  distracted.  This  vacillation 
lasted  only  a  moment.  Ibarra  made  a  rush  toward  him, 
and  stopped  the  priest  from  falling  only  by  grasping 
his  shoulder.  Then,  in  a  voice  scarcely  intelligible,  he 
exclaimed : 

^^What  have  you  done  with  my  father?" 

Friar  Salvi,  pale  and  trembling,  as  he  read  the  un- 
mistakable sentiments  which  were  depicted  on  the 
young  man's  face,  could  not  reply. 

"What  have  you  done  with  my  father?"  he  asked 
again,  his  voice  almost  choking  him. 

The  priest,  shrinking  from  the  tight  grasp  of  Ibarra's 
hand,  at  last  made  a  great  effort  and  said:  "You  are 
mistaken.     I  have  done  nothing  with  your  father." 

"What?  No?"  continued  the  young  man,  the  weight 
of  his  hand  on  the  priest's  shoulder  almost  making  him 
kneel. 

"No,  I  assure  you.  It  was  my  predecessor.  It  was 
Father  Damaso " 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  throwing  the  priest 
down  and  giving  him  a  slap  in  the  face.  And  leaving 
Father  Salvi,  he  turned  quickly  and  went  toward  the 
house. 


Adventures  of  a  School  Teacher.        51 


CHAPTER  IX. 

'ADVENTURES   OF   A   SCHOOL  TEACHER. 

Laguna  de  Bay,  surrounded  by  mountains,  sleeps 
tranquilly  in  the  stillness  of  the  elements,  as  if  it  had 
not  joined  the  chorus  of  the  tempest  on  the  night  before. 
As  first  rays  of  dawn  appear  in  the  eastern  sky  and 
awaken  the  phosphorescent  myriads  in  the  water,  long, 
grey  shadows  appear  in  the  dim  distance,  almost  on  the 
border  of  the  horizon.  They  are  shadows  of  fishermen's 
boats  at  work  drawing  in  the  nets. 

Two  men,  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  from  a  lofty 
height  contemplate  the  scene  in  silence.  One  is  Ibarra, 
and  the  other  is  a  young,  meek-looking  man  with  a  mel- 
ancholy countenance. 

^'Here  is  the  place!"  said  the  latter.  "Here  is  where 
your  father's  body  was  thrown  into  the  water!  The 
grave-digger  brought  Lieutenant  Guevara  and  me  here 
and  pointed  out  the  spot." 

Ibarra,  with  emotion,  warmly  grasped  the  young 
man's  hand. 

"You  need  not  thank  me!"  replied  the  latter.  "I 
owed  your  father  for  many  favors  he  did  me.  The  only 
thing  I  could  ever  do  for  him  was  to  accompany  his  body  to 
the  grave.  I  had  come  to  the  town  without  knowing 
anybody,  without  any  recommendations,  without  a  repu- 
tation, without  money,  just  as  I  am  now.  Your  father 
protected  me,  procured  a  house  for  me,  helped  secure 
whatever  was  needed  to  advance  education;  he  used  to 
come  to  the  school  and  distribute  pennies  among  the  poor 
and  diligent  pupils;  he  provided  them  with  books  and 
papers.  But  that,  like  all  good  things,  did  not  last 
long." 

Ibarra  took  off  his  hat  and  seemed  to  pray  for  a  short 
time.     Then  he  turned  to  his  companion  and  said:  *TDid 


52.  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

you  tell  me  that  my  father  used  to  help  the  poor  chil- 
dren.    How  is  it  now?^^ 

^*^0h,  now  they  do  the  best  they  can." 

"And  don't  they  come  to  school  regularly?" 

"No,  for  their  shirts  are  ragged'  and  they  are 
ashamed." 

Ibarra  kept  silent  for  a  few  moments. 

"How  many  pupils  have  yon  now?"  he  asked,  with 
a  certain  interest. 

"There  are  more  than  two  hundred  on  the  register, 
but  only  twenty-five  in  the  class." 

"How  does  that  happen?" 

The  school  teacher  sadly  smiled. 

"It  is  a  long  and  tedious  story,"  said  he. 

"Don't  think  that  I  am  asking  out  of  vain  curiosity," 
replied  Ibarra,  looking  seriously  at  the  distant  horizon. 
"I  have  been  meditating  a  great  deal  on  the  matter,  and 
I  believe  that  it  is  far  better  to  try  to  carry  out  the  ideas 
of  my  father  than  to  try  to  avenge  him.  His  tomb  is 
sacred  ISTature;  and  his  enemies  were  the  people  and  the 
priest.  I  can  forgive  the  people  for  their  ignorance,  and 
as  to  the  priest,  I  will  pardon  his  character  because  I 
wish  to  respect  the  religion  which  he  represents.  I  wish 
to  be  inspired  with  the  spirit  of  the  one  who  gave  me 
life,  and,  that  I  may  lend  my  help,  I  wish  to  know  what 
are  the  obstacles  here  in  the  way  of  education." 

'^The  country  will  bless  your  memory,  Seiior,  if  you 
can  carry  out  the  beautiful  and  noble  ideas  of  your  dead 
father,"  said  the  school  teacher.  "You  wish  to  know 
what  the  obstacles  are?  Very  well.  We  are  now  in  such 
circumstances  that  unless  something  powerful  inter- 
venes, there  will  never  be  any  education  here.  First, 
because  there  is  no  incentive  or  stimulus  to  the  chil- 
dren, and,  secondly,  even  when  there  is  an  incentive, 
lack  of  means  and  many  prejudices  kill  it.  They  say 
that  the  son  of  a  German  peasant  studies  eight  years  in 
the  town  school.  Who  would  want  to  spend  half  of  that 
time  in  our  schools^  when  the  benefits  to  be  derived  are 
so  small?  Here  the  children  read,  and  commit  to  mem- 
ory verses  and  at  times  entire  books  in  Spanish,  but  all 
without  understanding  a  single  word.     What  good  can 


•Adventures  of  a  School  Teacher.         53 

the  sons  of  our  farmers  get  out  of  the  school  so  long 
as  this  is  the  case?" 

"And  you  see  the  evil;  have  you  not  thought  out  a 
remedy  ?" 

"Ah,  poor  me!"  replied  the  teacher,  shaking  his  head, 
"a  poor  teacher  cannot  alone  fight  against  prejudices, 
against  existing  influences.  Above  all,  I  would  need  to 
have  a  school  house,  so  that  I  would  not,  as  I  do  now,  have 
to  teach  from  the  priest's  carriage,  under  the  convent. 
There,  when  the  children  want  to  read  aloud,  they  nat- 
urally disturb  the  Father,  who  at  times  comes  down  and 
very  nervous,  especially  when  he  has  his  attacks,  finds 
fault  with  the  children  and  insults  me.  You  know  very 
well  that  under  such  conditions  no  one  can  do  any 
teaching.  The  child  does  not  respect  the  teacher  from 
that  moment  when  he  sees  him  mistreated  by  some  one 
else  without  maintaining  his  rights.  The  teacher,  if  he 
is  to  be  listened  to,  or  if  his  authority  is  not  to  be 
doubted,  needs  prestige,  a  good  name,  moral  strength, 
and  a  certain  amount  of  freedom.  If  you  will  allow  me, 
I  will  give  you  an  illustration.  I  wished  to  introduce 
some  reforms  and  they  laughed  at  me.  In  order  to 
remedy  the  evil  that  I  spoke  of  a  moment  ago,  I  tried 
to  teach  the  children  Spanish,  because,  not  only  does 
the  Government  order  it,  but  because  it  will  be  a  great 
advantage  for  them  to  know  the  language.  I  employed 
the  simplest  method,  used  simple  phrases  and  nouns 
without  making  use  of  hard  rules,  with  the  expectation 
of  teaching  them  the  grammar  as  soon  as  they  had 
learned  the  language.  At  the  end  of  several  weeks,  al- 
most all  the  smarter  ones  in  the  school  understood  me  and 
were  able  to  compose  phrases  in  Castellano." 

The  teacher  stopped  and  seemed  to  be  in  doubt.  Then, 
as  if  he  had  made  up  his  mind,  he  began  again. 

"I  ought  not  to  be  ashamed  of  the  history  of  my 
grievances.  If  any  one  had  been  in  my  place,  he  would 
have  had  the  same  story  to  tell.  As  I  was  saying,  I  be- 
gan well.  Several  days  later  the  priest,  who  was  then 
Father  Damaso,  sent  the  sacristan  mayor  to  tell  me  that 
he  wanted  to  see  me.  As  I  knew  his  character  and  was 
afraid  to  make  him  wait  for  me,  I  went  up  immedi- 


54  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ately,  saluted  him  and  said  good  morning  to  him  in 
Spanish.  As  was  customary,  when  I  saluted  him,  I  ad- 
vanced to  kiss  the  hand  which  he  held  out,  but  just  at 
that  moment  he  withdrew  it  and,  without  replying  to  me, 
began  to  chuckle  scoffingly.  I  was  naturally  discon- 
certed, and  it  was  all  done  in  the  presence  of  the  sac- 
ristian  mayor.  At  the  moment,  I  did  not  know  what  to 
say.  I  stood  and  looked  at  him  while  he  went  on  laugh- 
ing. I  had  already  become  impatient  and  saw  that  I 
was  on  the  point  of  commiting  an  indiscretion.  All  of 
a  sudden,  he  stopped  laughing  and  added  insult  to  in- 
jury. With  a  cunning  air,  he  said  to  me:  'So  it  is 
huenos  dias,  eh?  luenos  dias,  ha,  ha!  How  funny!  Why, 
you  know  how  to  speak  Spanish,  do  you?'  And  then  he 
continued  his  laugh." 

Ibarra  could  not  keep  back  his  smile. 

"You  laugh,"  replied  the  teacher,  also  smiling.  "I 
confess  that  I  did  not  feel  like  smiling  at  that  time.  I 
felt  the  blood  rush  to  my  head,  and  a  thunderbolt 
seemed  to  dazzle  my  brain.  I  saw  the  priest  far  off,  very 
far  from  me.  I  started  toward  him  to  reply.  The  sac- 
ristan mayor  interposed  and  said  very  seriously,  in  Tagalog: 
'You  want  to  stop  wearing  borrowed  clothes.  Be  content 
to  speak  in  your  own  language  and  do  not  spoil  Spanish, 
which  is  not  meant  for  you.  You  have  heard  about 
Ciruela?  Well,  Ciruela  was  a  teacher  who  did  not  know 
how  to  read,  but  he  taught  school.'  I  wanted  to  detain 
him  for  a  moment,  but  he  went  quickly  into  his  room 
and  closed  the  door  violently.  What  was  I  to  do?  In 
order  to  collect  my  salary  I  have  to  have  the  approval 
of  the  priest  on  my  bill,  and  have  to  make  a  journey  to 
the  capital  of  the  province.  What  could  I  do  to  him — 
the  moral,  political  and  civil  authority  of  the  town,  sus- 
tained by  his  corporation,  feared  by  the  Government, 
rich,  powerful,  always  consulting,  advising,  listening,  be- 
lieving and  attending  to  everything — what  could  I  do 
to  him?  If  he  insulted  me,  I  had  to  keep  my  mouth 
closed.  If  I  talked  back,  he  would  throw  me  out  of 
work,  spoiling  my  career.  And  what  good  would  it  do 
— education?  On  the  contrary,  everybody  would  take 
up  the  priest's  side  of  the  matter;  they  would  criticise 


Adventures  of  a  School  Teacher.         55 

me,  they  would  call  me  vain,  proud,  arrogant,  a  poor 
Christian,  poorly  educated,  and  when  not  this,  they 
would  call  me  an  anti-Spaniard  and  an  agitator.  The 
school  teacher  should  have  no  authority.  He  should 
only  be  lazy,  humble,  and  resigned  to  his  low  position. 
May  God  pardon  me  if  I  do  not  speak  conscientiously 
and  truthfully,  but  1  was  born  in  this  country,  I  have  to 
live,  I  have  a  mother  to  support  and  I  have  to  be  re- 
signed to  my  lot.^' 

"And  have  you  continued  to  be  discouraged  on  ac- 
count of  this  trouble?  Have  you  attempted  nothing 
since?" 

"Would  to  God  that  it  had  ended  there!"  he  replied. 
*^ould  to  God  that  that  had  been  the  end  of  my  mis- 
fortunes. The  truth  is  that  from  that  day  I  began  to 
take  a  dislike  to  my  profession.  Every  day  the  school 
brought  to  my  mind  my  disgrace  and  made  every  hour 
a  bitter  one  for  me.  But  what  could  I  do?  I  could  not 
disappoint  my  mother.  I  had  to  tell  her  that  the  three 
years  of  sacrifices  which  she  had  made  for  me  in  order 
that  I  might  learn  the  profession  now  made  me  happy. 
I  had  to  make  her  believe  that  the  profession  was  a 
most  honorable  one,  that  the  work  was  most  pleasant, 
that  the  road  was  strewn  with  flowers  and  that  the  ful- 
fillment of  my  duty  produced  nothing  but  friendships. 
If  I  had  told  her  the  contrary,  I  myself  would  still  be  as 
unhappy  and  would  only  make  another  unhappy,  which 
was  not  only  useless  but  a  sin.  So,  I  kept  at  my  work  and 
tried  not  to  be  discouraged.     I  tried  to  fight  it  down." 

The  school  teacher  made  a  short  pause  and  then  began 
again. 

"You  know  that  the  books  in  most  of  the  schools  are 
in  Spanish,  excepting  the  Tagalog  catechism,  which  varies 
according  to  the  corporation  which  appoints  the  priest 
of  the  parish.  The  books  generally  used  in  the  school 
are  novenaries,  the  ^Doxology^  and  Father  Astete's  cate- 
chism, which  are  no  more  edifying  than  the  books  of 
heretics.  On  account  of  the  fact  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  teach  the  children  Spanish,  as  I  wanted  to  do, 
and  owing  to  the  fact  that  I  could  not  translate  so  many 
books  into  the  native  language,  I  decided  to  try  to  sub- 


56  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

stitute  for  them  gradually,  short  verses,  extracts  from  the 
best  Tagalog  books,  such  as  the  'Treatise  on  Urbanity'  by 
Hortensio  y  Feliza,  and  some  of  the  little  pamphlets  on 
agriculture.  Sometimes  I  myself  translated  small  works, 
such  as  the  'History  of  the  Philippines,'  by  Father  Bar- 
ranera,  and  afterward  dictated  to  the  pupils  for  their 
note  books,  adding  at  times  some  of  my  own  observations. 
As  I  had  no  maps  to  teach  them  geography,  I  copied  one 
of  those  of  the  province  which  I  saw  in  the  capital,  and 
with  this  reproduction  and,  by  the  aid  of  the  tiles  on  the 
floor,  I  was  able  to  give  them  some  ideas  about  the  coun- 
try. The  new  priest  sent  for  me.  Although  he  did  not 
reprimand  me  severely,  he  told  me,  however,  that  my  first 
duty  was  to  teach  religion,  and  that  before  I  began  to 
teach  any  such  things  I  must  prove  by  an  examination 
that  all  the  children  knew  by  heart  the  'Mysteries,'  the 
'Doxology,'  and  the  'Catechism  of  the  Christian  Doc- 
trine.' 

"So,  in  the  meantime,  I  am  endeavoring  to  convert 
the  children  into  parrots  so  that  they  will  know  by  heart 
all  of  these  things  of  which  they  do  not  understand  a 
single  word.  Many  of  the  pupils  already  know  the  'Mys- 
teries' and  the  'Doxology,'  but  I  fear  that  I  am  making 
Father  Astete's  efforts  useless,  inasmuch  as  my  pupils 
do  not  even  distinguish  between  the  questions  and  the 
answers,  or  what  either  of  them  signifies.  Thus  we  shall 
die  and  thus  shall  do  those  who  are  yet  to  be  born;  yet 
in  Europe  they  talk  about  Progress !" 

"Let  us  not  be  so  pessimistic,"  replied  Ibarra,  rising 
to  his  feet.  "The  teniente  mayor  has  invited  me  to  at- 
tend a  town  meeting  to  be  held  in  the  tribunal.  Who 
knows  but  that  some  plan  for  improvement  may  there 
be  adopted!" 

The  school  teacher  arose  to  go,  shaking  his  head  in 
token  of  doubt. 


Lights  and  Shadows.  5; 


CHAPTER   X. 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS. 

The  people  of  the  town  have  made  their  preparation 
for  the  festival  in  honor  of  the  patron  saint,  San  Diego, 
and  are  gossiping  about  it,  and  about  the  arrival  of  Maria 
Clara,  accompanied  by  her  aunt  Isabel.  They  rejoiced 
over  it,  because  they  liked  her,  and  admired  her  beauty 
very  much.  They  also  rejoiced  in  the  change  it  had  made 
in  the  priest.  Father  Salvi.  "He  is  often  absent-minded 
during  the  holy  services,"  they  said.  "He  scarcely  speaks 
with  us,  and  he  plainly  grows  more  thin  and  taciturn." 
His  cook  saw  this  constantly  and  complained  of  the  little 
honor  that  he  did  his  dishes.  But  what  most  excited  the 
wonder  of  the  people  were  the  two  lights  which  one  could 
see  shining  in  the  convent  during  the  night,  while  Father 
Salvi  was  visiting  at  the  house  of  Maria  Clara !  The  old 
dames  crossed  themselves  and  kept  on  gossiping. 

Juan  Crisostomo  Ibarra  had  telegraphed  from  the  capi- 
tal of  the  province  his  compliments  to  Aunt  Isabel  and 
her  niece,  but  he  had  not  explained  his  absence.  Many 
thought  that  he  had  been  arrested  for  assaulting  Father 
Salvi  on  the  afternoon  of  "All  Saint's  Day."  But  the 
comments  increased  still  more  when,  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  third  day,  they  saw  Ibarra  get  out  of  a  carriage  in 
front  of  the  little  house  of  his  betrothed,  and  courteously 
salute  the  priest,  who  was  also  making  his  way  thither. 

If  we  go  to  Maria  Clara's  house,  we  will  find  it  like  a 
little  nest  among  orange  and  ilang-ilang  trees,  surrounded 
by  flowers  and  vines  which  creep  up  on  bamboo  sticks  and 
wires,  diffusing  their  delicious  perfume.  The  rich  fra- 
grance of  the  Hang-Hang  reaches  even  to  the  window  which 
looks  out  on  the  lake.  Here  sit  the  two  young  lovers. 
Ibarra  was  saying  to  Maria  Clara : 

"To-morrow,  before  the  first  ray  of  morning,  your  de- 
sire shall  be  fulfilled.  To-night,  I  shall  arrange  all  so  that 
nothing  will  be  lacking." 


58  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"THen  I  will  write  to  my  friends,  so  that  they  may  come 
along.    Arrange  it  so  that  the  priest  cannot  come." 

"And  why?" 

"Because  he  seems  to  be  watching  me.  His  deep  and 
sombre  eyes  pain  me.  When  he  fixes  them  upon  me,  they, 
frighten  me.  He  speaks  to  me  of  extraordinary  things,  so 
incomprehensible,  so  strange.  He  asked  me  once  if  I  had! 
not  dreamed  about  my  mother^s  letters.  I  believe  he  is 
half  crazy.  My  friend  Sinang,  and  Andeng,  my  foster 
sister,  say  that  he  is  a  little  out  of  his  head,  for  he  neither 
eats  nor  bathes,  and  he  lives  entirely  in  the  darkness. 
Don't  have  him  come  !" 

"We  cannot  but  invite  him,"  replied  Ibarra.  "The 
customs  of  the  country  require  it.  He  is  the  priest  of 
your  house  and,  besides,  he  has  conducted  himself  nobly  to- 
ward me.  When  the  Alcalde  consulted  him  on  the  business 
of  which  I  have  spoken  to  you,  he  had  nothing  but  praises 
for  me  and  did  not  pretend  to  offer  the  slightest  obstacle. 
But  I  see  that  you  are  serious.  I  shall  take  care  that  he 
does  not  accompany  us  in  the  boat." 

Light  steps  were  heard.  They  were  those  of  the  priest, 
who  was  approaching  with  a  forced  smile  on  his  lips. 
They  began  to  talk  of  different  subjects,  about  the  weather, 
the  town  and  the  festival.  Maria  Clara  devised  an  ex- 
cuse and  went  out. 

"And  while  we  are  speaking  about  festivals,"  said 
Ibarra,  "allow  me  to  invite  you  to  the  one  which  we  are 
going  to  celebrate  to-morrow.  It  is  going  to  be  a  coun- 
try picnic,  which  we  and  our  friends  are  planning." 

"And  where  will  it  be  held?" 

"The  girls  want  to  hold  it  near  the  brook  in  the  woods, 
near  the  haliti  tree.  So  we  will  have  to  get  up  early  to 
reach  the  place  before  the  sun  gets  hot." 

The  priest  reflected,  and  a  moment  later  replied:  "The 
invitation  is  very  tempting,  and  I  accept  it  in  order  to 
prove  that  I  hold  no  grudge  against  you  for  what  has 
happened  in  the  past.  But  I  will  have  to  be  a  little  late, 
as  I  must  fulfill  my  religious  duties  first.  How  happy 
to  be  like  you,  entirely  free  and  independent !" 

A  few  minutes  later,  Ibarra  took  his  leave  in  order  to 
arrange  for  the  picnic  on  the  following  day.  It  was  al- 
ready  quite  dark  when  he  left  the  house. 


The  Fishing  Party.  59 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  FISHING  PAETY. 

The  stars  were  still  shining  in  the  sapphire  heavens, 
and  the  birds  were  sleeping  on  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
when  a  jolly  little  party,  by  the  light  from  the  pitch 
torches,  wandered  through  the  streets  of  the  town  toward 
the  lake. 

Five  young  maidens,  clinging  to  each  other's  hands  or 
belts,  tripped  along  briskly.  Behind  them  came  several 
elderly  women  and  a  number  of  servants  gracefully  carry- 
ing on  their  heads  baskets  filled  with  provisions  and  vari- 
ous dishes  for  the  picnic.  On  seeing  their  joyful  faces, 
with  their  youthful  smiles,  their  beautiful  black  hair  as 
it  floated  in  the  breeze,  and  the  wide  folds  of  their  pretty 
dresses,  you  would  have  taken  them  for  goddesses  of  the 
night  and  would  have  thought  that  they  were  fleeing  from 
day — if  perchance  you  had  not  already  known  that  it  was 
Maria  Clara  and  her  four  friends:  jolly  Sinang;  her 
cousin,  the  serious  Victoria;  beautiful  Iday;  and  the  pen- 
sive Neneng,  pretty,  modest  and  timid. 

They  were  talking  with  animation;  they  laughed; 
pinched  each  other;  whispered  in  each  other's  ears  and 
then  burst  out  in  shouts  of  merriment. 

"You  girls  will  wake  up  everybody  in  town.  Don't 
you  know  that  people  are  still  asleep?"  said  Aunt  Isabel, 
reprimanding  them.  "When  we  were  young,  we  didn't 
make  such  a  noise." 

"But  you  didn't  get  up  as  early  as  we  do,  nor  were 
the  old  men  such  great  sleepers  in  your  day,"  replied  little 
Sinang. 

They  were  quiet  for  a  moment  and  were  trying  to  talk 
in  a  low  voice,  but  they  quickly  forgot  themselves  and 
were  again  filling  the  streets  with  their  youthful  laughter 
and  melodious  voices. 


60  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Several  young  fellows  were  coining  down  the  street, 
lighting  their  way  with  large  bamboo  torches.  They  were 
marching  along  almost  noiselessly  to  the  tune  of  a  guitar. 

"That  guitar  sounds  as  though  some  beggar  were  play- 
ing it/'  said  Sinang,  laughing.  But  when  the  young  fel- 
lows caught  up  with  the  rest  of  the  party,  the  girls  sud- 
denly became  as  quiet  and  as  serious  as  though  they  never 
had  learned  how  to  laugh.  The  young  men,  however, 
chatted  away,  saluted  the  ladies,  laughed  and  smiled  and 
asked  half  a  dozen  questions  without  giving  the  girls  time 
to  answer  any  one  of  them. 

The  two  large  lancasj^  which  had  been  secured  to  trans- 
port the  picnic  party  to  the  fishing  grounds,  were  fastened 
together  and  picturesquely  adorned  with  wreaths  and  gar- 
lands of  flowers  and  a  large  number  of  vari-colored 
candles.  Paper  lanterns  hung  from  the  improvised  cov- 
ering of  the  hancas.  Alternately  with  these  were  roses, 
pinks  and  baskets  of  fruits  such  as  pineapples,  Icasuys, 
bananas,  gicayahas  and  lanzones.  Ibarra  had  brought  his 
carpets,  blankets  and  rugs  and  arranged  comfortable  seats 
for  the  ladies.  The  poles  and  paddles  used  to  propel 
the  hancas  had  also  been  ornamented.  In  the  better 
hanca  were  a  harp,  guitars,  accordeons,  and  a  buffalo  horn ; 
while,  in  the  other  boat,  a  little  fire  had  been  lighted  in 
an  improvised  stove  in  order  that  tea,  coffee  and  salabat\ 
might  be  prepared  for  the  light  breakfast. 

"The  women  sit  here ;  the  men,  there,''  said  the  mothers 
on  stepping  into  the  hanca.  "Sit  still  and  don't  move,  or 
we  will  be  capsized." 

"Cross  yourselves  before  we  start,"  said  Aunt  Isabel, 
as  she  traced  the  form  of  a  cross  on  her  breast. 

"And  are  we  to  be  here  all  by  ourselves,"  asked  Sinang, 
on  seeing  how  the  girls  had  been  separated  from  the  young 
men,  by  the  assignment  of  the  seats.  Then  making  a 
grimace  she  asked  again,  "Are  we  going  to  be  all  alone? 
Arayr 

This  aray  was  caused  by  a  little  pinch  which  her  mother 
had  given  her  on  the  arm  in  the  way  of  a  reprimand  for 
her  complaint. 

*  A  narrow  canoe.  f  A  drink  made  of  honey  and  ginger. 


The  Fishing  Party.  61 

The  hancas  were  now  putting  off  slowly  from  the  shore. 
The  light  from  the  torches  and  Japanese  lanterns  was 
reflected  in  the  water,  for  the  lake  was  as  smooth  as  a 
mirror.  In  the  far  eastern  horizon  could  be  seen  the  first 
rosy  tints  of  the  approaching  dawn. 

Everything  was  very  quiet.  The  young  women,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  separation  from  the  young  men,  seemed 
to  be  absorbed  in  meditation. 

As  the  water  was  smooth  as  glass  and  the  bamboo 
weirs  where  the  fish  were  to  be  found  were  not  far  off, 
and,  it  was  still  early,  it  was  decided  that  all  should  stop 
paddling  and  take  breakfast.  The  lights  were  put  out, 
for  the  day  had  dawned  and  preparations  were  made  for 
desayuno* 

The  entire  party  became  jolly  as  they  breathed  in  the 
light  breeze  that  had  come  upi  Even  the  women,  so  full 
of  presentiments  a  few  moments  ago,  were  now  laughing 
and  joking  among  themselves. 

One  young  man  alone  of  all  the  party  remained  silent. 
He  was  the  pilot,  an  athletic-looking  fellow,  and  inter- 
esting on  account  of  his  large,  sad  eyes  and  the  severe 
lines  of  his  lips.  His  long,  black  hair  fell  gracefully  over 
his  powerful  neck.  He  wore  a  shirt  of  coarse  dark  cloth, 
through  which  his  powerful  muscles  could  be  plainly  seen 
as  he  manipulated  with  his  strong  arms  the  wide,  heavy 
paddle  as  if  it  were  only  a  pen.  This  paddle  served  both 
to  propel  and  to  steer  the  hancas. 

More  than  once  he  was  embarrassed  when  he  caught 
Maria  Clara  looking  at  him.  Then  he  would  turn  his  eyes 
quickly  to  some  other  direction  and  look  far  off  toward  the 
mountain,  or  the  shore  of  the  lake.  The  young  maiden 
pitied  him  in  his  solitude  and  offered  him  some  biscuits. 
The  pilot  looked  at  her  with  surprise,  but  only  for  a  mo- 
ment. He  took  the  biscuits,  thanked  her  very  briefiy  and 
in  a  voice  scarcely  audible. 

No  one  else  took  any  notice  of  him.  The  happy  laugh- 
ter and  jolly  conversation  of  the  young  men  did  not 
cause  him  to  relax  a  single  muscle  of  his  face.  Not 
even  Sinang,  with  all  her  jollity,  had  any  effect  on  him. 
*A  light,  early  breakfast. 


62  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Wait  a  minute!"  said  Aunt  Isabel  to  the  boatman's 
son,  who  had  made  ready  his  net  and  was  just  about  to 
go  up  on  the  baklad  to  take  out  the  fish  from  the  little 
enclosure  at  the  end  of  the  weir.  "We  must  have  every- 
thing ready,  so  that  the  fish  may  pass  directly  from  the 
water  to  the  pot." 

Andeng,  the  pretty  foster  sister  of  Maria  Clara,  despite 
her  clear  complexion  and  laughing  face,  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  a  good  cook.  She  prepared  the  rice,  toma- 
toes, and  camias,*  while  some  of  the  young  men  tried 
to  aid  or  bother  her,  perhaps  in  order  to  win  her  good 
will.  The  other  girls  were  busy  cleaning  and  making  ready 
the  lettuce,  cabbage  and  peas,  and  cutting  up  pa^iyap 
in  pieces  about  the  size  of  a  cigarette. 

Finally  Andeng  announced  that  the  kettle  was  ready 
to  receive  its  guests — the  fish. 

The  fisherman's  son  went  up  on  top  of  the  rack  at  the 
end  of  the  weir.  He  took  a  position  at  the  narrow  en- 
trance, over  which  might  have  been  written:  "All  who 
enter  here'  leave  hope  behind,"  if  indeed  the  unfortunate 
fish  would  know  how  to  read  and  understand  it,  for  a 
fish  who  enters  never  gets  out  except  to  die.  The  rack 
is  almost  circular  in  form  and  about  a  meter  in  diameter, 
and  is  so  arranged  that  a  man  can  stand  on  top  of  one 
end  of  it  and  thus  take  out  the  fish  with  his  net. 

"There,  it  wouldn't  tire  me  a  bit  to  fish  that  way," 
said  Sinang,  quite  joyful. 

All  were  watching  attentively.  Already  some  of  them 
in  their  vivid  imaginations  thought  they  could  see  the 
fish  wiggling  their  tails  and  trying  to  get  out  of  the  little 
net,  their  scales  shining  in  the  bright  sun.  However,  the 
young  man  failed  to  catch  a  single  fish  in  his  first  at- 
tempt. 

"It  ought  to  be  full  of  fish,"  said  Albino,  in  a  low 
voice.  "It  is  more  than  five  days  since  we  visited  the 
place  last." 

The  fisherman  drew  out  his  net  a  second  time,  but  not 
a  fish  was  there  in  it.  The  water,  as  it  trickled  through 
the  meshes  of  the  net  in  countless  drops  which  reflected 

*A  native  fruit. 


The  Fishing  Party.  63 

the  rays  of  the  sun,  seemed  to  laugh  in  silvery  tones.  An 
"Ah"  of  surprise,  disgust,  and  disappointment  escaped 
from  the  lips  of  all. 

The  young  fellow  repeated  the  same  operation,  but  with 
a  similar  result. 

"You  don^t  understand  your  business!"  said  Albino  to 
him  as  he  stepped  up  on  the  rack  and  took  the  net  from 
the  hands  of  the  youngster.  "Now  you  will  see !  Andeng, 
open  up  the  kettle!" 

But  Albino  did  not  understand  his  business,  either. 
The  net  came  up  empty  as  before.     All  began  to  laugh. 

"Don't  make  any  noise,"  he  said,  "or  the  fish  will  hear 
it  and  will  keep  from  being  caught.  This  net  must 
have  a  hole  in  it  somewhere." 

But  every  mesh  in  the  net  was  perfect. 

"Let  me  take  it!"  said  Leon,  Iday's  lover,  to  Albino. 

Leon  first  made  sure  that  the  enclosure  was  in  good 
condition  and  then  examined  the  net  carefully  and  satis- 
fied himself  that  there  was  nothing  wrong  with  it.  He 
then  asked:  "Are  you  sure  that  no  one  has  been  out  here 
for  five  days?" 

"We  are  sure !  The  last  time  any  one  was  out  here  was 
on  All  Saints'  Day." 

"Well,  then,  I  am  going  to  bring  out  something  this 
time,  unless  the  lake  is  bewitched." 

Leon  lowered  the  net  by  its  bamboo  handle  into  the 
water,  but  a  look  of  surprise  was  painted  on  his  face.  In 
silence  he  looked  toward  the  neighboring  mountain  and 
continued  moving  the  handle  of  the  net  from  one  side  to 
the  other.  Finally,  without  taking  the  net  out  of  the 
water,  he  murmured  in  a  low  voice:  "An  alligator." 

"An  alligator!"  exclaimed  half  a  dozen  voices,  and  th? 
word  was  repeated  again  while  all  stood  frightened  and 
stupefied. 

"What  did  you  say?"  they  asked. 

"I  say  that  there  is  an  alligator  caught  in  the  rack," 
said  Leon,  and  sticking  the  handle  of  the  net  into  the 
water  again  he  continued:  'TDo  you  hear  that  sound? 
That  is  not  sand,  it  is  hard  skin,  the  back  of  the  alligator. 
Do  you  see  how  he  wiggles  the  bamboo  pickets  in  the  rack  ? 
He  is  struggling  hard  but  he  cannot  do  anything.     Wait. 


64  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

He  is  a  large  fellow ;  his  body  measures  a  palm  or  more  in 
width/' 

"What  shall  be  done?"  was  the  question. 
"Catch  him/'  said  one. 
^' Jesus!     And  who  will  catch  him?" 
Nobody  offered  to  dive  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  rack. 
The  water  was  very  deep. 

"We  ought  to  tie  him  to  our  hanca  and  drag  him  along 
in  triumph/'  said  Sinang.  "The  idea  of  his  eating  the 
fish  which  we  ought  to  have!" 

"I  have  never  seen  to  this  day  a  live  alligator/'  said 
Maria  Clara. 

The  pilot  rose  to  his  feet,  took  a  long  rope  and  went  up 
cautiously  to  the  platform  on  the  top  of  the  rack.  Leon 
gave  up  his  position  to  him. 

With  the  exception  of  Maria  Clara,  none  up  till  now 
had  paid  any  attention  to  him.  Now  every  one  was  ad- 
miring his  fine  stature. 

To  the  great  surprise  of  all  and  in  spite  of  all  their 
cries,  the  pilot  leaped  into  the  enclosure. 

"Take  this  knife!"  shouted  Crisostomo,  drawing  out  a 
wide-bladed  Toledo  knife. 

But  already  a  thousand  little  bubbles  were  rising  to  the 
surface  of  the  water,  and  all  that  was  going  on  in  the 
depths  below  was  wrapped  in  mystery. 

"Jesus,  Maria  y  Jose!"  exclaimed  the  women.     "We 

are  going  to  have  a  misfortune.     Jesus,  Maria  y  Jose!** 

"Don't  be  alarmed,  seiioras,"  said  the  old  boatman.     "If 

there  is  any  one  in  this  province  who  can  do  it,  it  is  that 

fellow  who  has  just  gone  down." 

"What  is  his  name?"  they  asked. 

"We  call  him  'The  Pilot' ;  he  is  the  best  I  have  ever  seen, 
only  he  does  not  like  his  profession." 

The  water  was  being  stirred  violently,  and  it  seemed 
that  a  fierce  fight  was  being  waged  in  the  depths  of  the  lake. 
The  sides  of  the  enclosure  swayed  to  and  fro,  while  the 
water  seemed  to  be  swirled  by  a  dozen  currents.  All  held 
their  breath.  Ibarra  grasped  tightly  the  handle  of  his 
sharp  knife. 

The  fight  seemed  to  be  at  an  end.  The  head  of  the 
young  man  rose  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  the  sight 


The  Fishing  Party.  65 

ivras  greeted  by  Joyful  shouts  from  all.  The  eyes  of  the 
women  were  full  of  tears. 

The  pilot  crawled  up  on  the  platform  carrying  in  his 
hand  the  end  of  the  rope,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  able  pulled 
on  it. 

The  monster  appeared  on  top  of  the  water.  He  had  the 
rope  tied  twice  around  his  neck,  and  once  behind  his  fore- 
legs. He  was  a  large  fellow,  as  Leon  had  already  an- 
nounced. He  was  beautifully  colored  and  green  moss  was 
growing  on  his  back.  He  bellowed  like  an  ox,  struck  his 
tail  against  the  sides  of  the  enclosure,  snapped  at  them, 
and  opened  his  black,  frightful-looking  mouth,  showing 
hip  long  teeth. 

The  pilot,  unassisted,  raised  him  up  out  of  the  water. 
No  one  offered  to  help  him.  Just  as  soon  as  the  animal 
was  out  of  the  water  and  placed  on  the  platform,  the  pilot 
put  his  foot  on  his  back.  Then,  closing  the  animal's  mas- 
sive jaws,  he  tried  to  tie  his  big  snout  tight  with  the  rope. 
The  reptile  made  a  last  effort,  doubled  up  his  body,  struck 
the  floor  of  the  platform  with  his  powerful  tail  and,  break- 
ing loose,  made  a  leap  into  the  water  of  the  lake,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  weir,  at  the  same  time  dragging  with  him 
his  captor.  It  seemed  that  the  pilot  would  be  a  dead  man. 
A  cry  of  horror  went  up  from  all. 

Like  a  flash  of  lightning,  another  body  leaped  into  the 
water.  So  quickly  was  it  done  that  they  had  scarcely  time 
to  see  that  it  was  Ibarra.  Maria  Clara  did  not  faint, 
simply  because  the  Filipinos  do  not  know  how  to  faint. 

They  all  saw  the  water  become  colored,  and  tinged  with 
blood.  The  young  fisherman  leaped  to  the  bottom  with  his 
bolo  in  his  hand;  his  father  followed  him.  But,  scarcely 
had  they  disappeared,  when  they  saw  Crisostomo  and  the 
pilot  reappear,  clinging  to  the  body  of  the  reptile.  The 
monster's  white  belly  was  slashed,  while  in  his  throat  the 
knife  still  stuck  like  a  nail. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  joy  that  came  over  the 
party  at  the  sight;  all  arms  were  extended  to  help  them 
out  of  the  water.  The  old  women  were  half  crazed  with 
joy,  and  laughed  and  prayed.  Andeng  forgot  that  her 
kettle  had  beei;  boiling  three  different  times;  now  it  wa§ 


66  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

leaking  and  had  put  out  tlie  fire.  iTHe  only  one  wHo 
could  not  speak  was  Maria  Clara. 

Ibarra  was  unhurt.  The  pilot  had  a  slight  scratch  on 
his  arm. 

"I  owe  you  my  life!"  said  he  to  Ibarra  as  the  latter 
wrapped  himself  up  in  the  shawls  and  blankets.  The  voice 
of  the  pilot  had  a  ring  of  sincerity. 

"You  are  too  bold,"  replied  Ibarra.  "Another  time 
you  must  not  tempt  God." 

"If  you  had  never  come  back!"  exclaimed  Maria,  pale 
and  trembling. 

"If  I  had  never  come  back  and  you  had  followed  after 
me,"  replied  the  young  man,  "I  would  have  been  with  all 
my  family  in  the  bottom  of  the  lake."  Ibarra  was  think- 
ing that  in  those  depths  lay  the  remains  of  his  father. 

The  mothers  of  the  girls  did  not  want  to  go  to  the 
other  halclad  oi  weir.  They  preferred  to  go  back  home 
happy,  for  the  day  had  commenced  with  a  bad  omen  and 
they  feared  that  they  would  suffer  many  misfortunes. 

"It  is  all  because  we  have  not  heard  mass,"  sighed  one 
of  them. 

"But  what  misfortune  have  we  had,  seiioras?"  asked 
Ibarra.     "The  alligator  was  the  unfortunate  one." 

"That  goes  to  show,"  concluded  Albino,  "that,  in  all  his 
fishing  life,  this  reptile  has  never  heard  mass.  I  never 
saw  him,  I  am  sure,  among  the  other  reptiles  who  frequent 
the  church." 

The  hancas  were  turned  toward  the  other  fish  rack,  and 
it  was  necessary  for  Andeng  to  get  the  water  boiling 
again. 

The  day  was  advancing;  a  breeze  was  blowing;  little 
v/aves  were  stirred  up  on  the  water,  and  rippled  around  the 
alligator.  The  music  began  again.  Iday  was  playing  the 
harp,  while  the  young  men  were  playing  the  accordeons 
and  guitars  with  more  or  less  skill.  But  the  one  who 
played  best  was  Albino. 

The  other  weir  was  visited  with  an  entire  lack  of  con- 
fidence. Many  of  the  party  expected  to  find  there  the 
mate  to  the  alligator,  but  Nature  fooled  them  and  every 
time  that  the  net  was  lowered  it  was  brought  up  full  of 
fish. 


The  Fishing  Party.  67 

THey  then  headed  for  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  is 
situated  the  forest  of  trees  centuries  old,  owned  by  Ibarra. 
There  in  the  shade  and  near  the  crystal  brook  the  party 
were  to  take  their  breakfast  among  the  flowers  or  under 
improvised  tents. 


68  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN"   THE   WOODS. 

Very  early  that  morning  Father  Salvi  had  said  mass, 
cleaning,  according  to  his  custom,  a  dozen  dirty  souls  in 
a  few  minutes.  The  reading  of  a  few  letters,  which  had 
arrived  well  sealed  with  wax,  seemed  to  cause  the  worthy 
curate  to  lose  his  appetite,  for  he  allowed  his  chocolate  to 
get  cold. 

"The  Father  is  ill,"  said  the  cook  as  he  prepared  an- 
other cup.  "It  is  several  days  since  he  has  eaten  any- 
thing; of  six  dishes  which  I  put  on  the  table  for  him,  he 
has  not  touched  two." 

^^It  must  be  that  he  does  not  sleep  well,"  replied  the 
servant.  "He  has  nightmare  since  he  changed  his  bed- 
room. Every  day  his  eyes  are  sinking  deeper,  he  grows 
gradually  thinner,  and  is  very  yellow." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  a  pitiful  sight  to  behold 
Father  Salvi.  He  did  not  care  to  touch  his  second  cup 
of  chocolate,  nor  to  taste  the  Cebu  cakes.  He  walked  pen- 
sively to  and  fro  in  the  spacious  sola,  crumpling  between 
his  bony  fingers  some  letters  which  he  would  read  from 
time  to  time.  Finally,  he  called  for  his  carriage,  got 
ready  and  ordered  the  coachman  to  take  him  to  the  woods 
where  the  picnic  was  to  be  held.  Arriving  at  the  place, 
Father  Salvi  dismissed  the  carriage  and  all  alone,  entered 
the  forest. 

A  shady  but  difficult  path  runs  through  the  thicket  and 
leads  to  the  brook  which  is  formed  by  the  hot  springs  so 
plentiful  at  the  base  of  Mount  Makiling. 

For  some  time.  Father  Salvi  was  wandering  among  the 
thick  underbrush,  here  trjdng  to  evade  the  thorns  which 
entangled  his  habit  of  guingon  as  if  to  detain  him;  there 
trying  to  step  over  the  roots  of  the  trees  which  stuck 
up  through  the  ground  and  made  the  inexperienced  traveler 


In  the  Woods.  69 

stumble  again  and  again.  Suddenly  he  stopped.  Mirth- 
ful laughter  and  the  sound  of  young  voices  reached  his 
ears.  The  voices  and  the  laughter  seemed  to  come  from 
the  direction  of  the  brook  and  each  time  seemed  to  be  com- 
ing nearer. 

"I  am  going  to  see  if  I  can  find  a  heron's  nest/^  said  a 
voice,  beautiful  and  sweet,  and  at  once  recognized  by  the 
curate.  'TTou  know  they  say  that  if  a  person  possesses  one 
of  those  nests  he  can  make  himself  invisible  to  everybody. 
How  I  would  like  to  see  him  and  not  have  him  see  me! 
I  could  follow  him  everywhere." 

Father  SaM  hid  behind  the  thick  trunk  of  an  old  tree 
and  listened. 

"That  is  to  say,  you  want  to  do  with  him  what  the 
curate  does  with  you :  watch  him  everywhere  ?"  replied  the 
merry  voice.  "Be  careful,  for  jealousy  makes  one  grow 
thin  and  the  eyes  sink  in." 

"No,  no.  It  is  not  jealousy,  it  is  pure  curiosity,"  re- 
plied the  silvery  voice,  while  the  other  repeated,  "yes,  yes, 
jealousy;  that's  what  it  is."  And  then  she  broke  out  in 
a  merry  chuckle. 

"If  I  were  jealous  of  him  I  would  not  use  the  heron's 
nest  to  make  myself  invisible  to  him,  but  would  make  him 
invisible  to  everybody  else." 

"But  then  you  yourself  would  not  be  able  to  see  him 
and  you  would  not  want  that  to  happen.  The  best  thing 
to  do,  if  we  find  a  heron's  nest  is  to  give  it  to  the  priest. 
Then  he  could  watch  us  as  much  as  he  pleased,  and  we 
would  not  be  troubled  with  the  sight  of  him.  What  do 
you  think  of  the  idea  ?" 

"But  I  don't  believe  in  the  story  about  the  heron's  nests, 
anyway,"  replied  one.  "But  if  I  were  really  jealous  I 
would  know  how  to  keep  watch  of  a  person  and  make  my- 
self invisible.     .     .     " 

"And  how  ?  How  would  you  do  it  ?  Perhaps  you  would 
do  as  Sister  Listener  does  in  the  convent?" 

This  reference  to  days  passed  in  the  convent  provoked 
a  jolly  laugh  all  around. 

Father  Salvi  saw  from  his  hiding-place  Maria  Clara, 
Victoria,  and  Sinang,  wading  in  the  stream.  All  three 
were  looking  into  the  water,  which  was  like  a  mirror,  in 


70  Friars  and  Filipinos.* 

search  of  the  heron's  nest.  They  were  getting  wet  np  to 
their  knees,  the  wide  folds  of  their  bathing  skirts  allowing 
one  to  guess  how  graceful  were  the  curves  of  their  limbs. 
They  were  wearing  their  hair  loose  and  their  arms  were 
bare.  Striped,  bright-colored  bodices  covered  their  breasts. 
The  three  lasses,  at  the  same  time  that  they  were  hunting 
for  that  which  did  not  exist,  collected  flowers  and  plants 
which  were  growing  on  the  banks  of  the  stream. 

The  religious  Acteon,  pale  and  immovable,  stood  gaz- 
ing upon  Maria  Clara,  that  chaste  Diana.  The  eyes  which 
shone  in  those  dark  orbits  never  tired  of  admiring  those 
white  and  beautiful  arms,  that  pretty,  round  neck,  those 
tiny  and  rosy  feet  as  they  played  in  the  water.  As  he 
contemplated  all  this,  strange  feelings  were  awakened  in 
his  breast,  new  dreams  took  possession  of  his  burning 
mind. 

The  three  pretty  forms  disappeared  in  a  thick  growth 
of  bamboo  behind  a  bend  in  the  stream,  but  their  cruel 
allusions  could  still  be  heard  by  the  curate.  Intoxicated 
with  the  strange  ideas  in  his  head,  staggering,  and  covered 
with  perspiration.  Father  Salvi  left  his  hiding-place  and 
looked  about  him  in  all  directions  with  staring  eyes.  He 
stood  immovable,  in  doubt.  He  took  a  few  steps  as  if 
to  follow  the  young  women,  but  he  turned  about,  and 
walked  along  the  bank  of  the  stream  in  order  to  find  the 
rest  of  the  picnic  party. 

Some  distance  ahead,  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  he 
could  see  a  bathing  place  well  enclosed  by  bamboo.  He 
could  hear  merry  laughter  and  feminine  accents  coming 
from  that  direction.  Still  further  down  the  stream  he 
could  see  a  bamboo  bridge  and  some  men  in  bathing.  In 
the  meantime,  a  multitude  of  servants  were  bustling  about 
the  improvised  fireplaces,  some  engaged  in  plucking 
chickens,  others  in  washing  rice  and  roasting  pig.  And 
there  on  the  opposite  bank,  in  a  clearing  which  had  been 
made,  were  a  number  of  men  and  women  under  a  tent. 
The  tent  had  been  made  by  hanging  canvas  from  the  limbs 
of  some  of  the  .old  trees  and  by  erecting  a  few  poles. 
There  in  the  group  was  the  alferez,  the  teniente  mayor, 
the  coadjutor,  the  gohernadorcillo,  the  school  teacher,  a 
jiumbei:  of  past  captains  and  lieutenants,  including  even 


In  the  Woods.  71 

Captain  Basilio,  who  was  Sinang^s  father,  and  the  former 
rival  of  the  deceased  Don  Kaf  ael.  Ibarra  had  said  to  him : 
"The  mere  fact  that  we  are  parties  to  a  law-suit  does  not 
mean  that  we  have  to  be  enemies."  So  it  was  that  the 
celebrated  orator  of  the  conservative  party  had  accepted 
the  invitation  to  the  picnic  with  enthusiasm,  and  had  even 
brought  along  three  turkeys  and  put  his  servants  at  the 
disposition  of  the  young  man. 

The  parish  priest  was  received  with  respect  and  deference 
by  all,  even  by  the  alferez. 

"But  where  did  Your  Keverence  come  from?"  some  one 
asked  on  seeing  his  face  full  of  scratches,  and  his  habit 
covered  with  leaves  and  pieces  of  dried  branches.  "Has 
Your  Reverence  fallen  down?" 

"No^  I  lost  my  way,"  replied  Father  Salvi,  looking 
down  and  examining  his  clothes. 

Bottles  of  lemonade  were  opened,  green  cocoanuts  were 
cut  in  two  so  that  those  who  were  coming  out  of  the  bath 
might  have  the  refreshing  milk  to  drink  and  the  delicate 
meat  to  eat.  The  young  women  in  addition  received 
rosaries  of  sampagas  interwoven  with  roses  and  ilang-ilang, 
which  gave  a  beautiful  fragrance  to  their  loose  hair. 
Some  were  sitting  or  lying  in  hammocks  which  had  been 
hung  from  the  branches  of  the  trees;  others  were  enter- 
taining themselves  in  a  game  that  was  going  on  around 
a  large,  flat  stone.  Playing  cards,  checkers,  dice  and  many 
other  games  were  in  progress. 

They  showed  the  alligator  to  the  curate,  but  he  seemed 
absorbed  and  paid  no  attention  until  they  mentioned  the 
fact  that  the  wide  wound  in  the  animal's  neck  had  been 
made  by  Ibarra.  Then,  too,  the  pilot,  the  principal  figure 
in  the  incident,  had  disappeared  and  could  not  be  found 
anywhere. 

Finally  Maria  Clara  came  out  of  the  bath,  accompanied 
by  her  friends,  fresh  as  a  rose  when  first  it  blooms,  and 
when  the  dew  on  its  divine  petals  glistens  like  diamonds. 
Her  first  smile  was  for  Ibarra;  and  her  first  frown  for 
Father  Salvi.  The  latter  noticed  this,  but  he  did  not  even 
sigh. 

It  was  now  time  to  eat.  The  curate,  the  coadjutor,  the 
alferez,  the  gdbernadorcillo,  and  some  of  the  captains,  to- 


72  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

gether  with  the  tenente  mayor  sat  down  at  the  table  over 
which  Ibarra  presided.  The  mothers  of  the  girls  did  not 
allow  any  one  to  eat  at  the  table  with  their  charges. 

"Do  you  know  anything  yet,  Senor  Alferez,  about  the 
criminal  who  assaulted  Father  Damaso?"  asked  Father 
Salvi. 

"About  what  criminal,  Father?"  asked  the  alferez,  look- 
ing at  the  parish  priest  through  his  empty  wine  glass. 

"About  whom  could  it  be?  About  the  one  who,  day 
before  yesterday,  struck  Father  Damaso,  of  course." 

"Struck  Father  Damaso?"  asked  a  number  of  voices. 

The  coadjutor  was  seen  to  smile. 

"Yes ;  and  Father  Damaso  is  now  in  bed.  It  is  believed 
that  the  culprit  was  that  same  Elias  who  once  threw  you 
into  a  mud-hole,  Senor  Alferez." 

The  alferez  colored  up  a  little,  either  from  shame  or 
too  much  wine. 

"I  thought  that  you  were  interested  in  the  affair,"  con- 
tinued Father  Salvi,  with  a  little  jeering  in  his  manner. 

The  alferez  bit  his  lips  and  mumbled  out  a  silly  ex- 
cuse. 

The  meal  ended  and,  while  tea  and  coffee  were  being 
served,  the  young  and  old  distributed  themselves  about  in 
various  groups.  Some  picked  up  playing  cards  and  others 
dice,  but  the  young  women,  anxious  to  know  the  future, 
preferred  to  try  their  luck  with  the  wheel  of  fortune. 

"Come,  Senor  Ibarra,"  shouted  Captain  Basilio,  who 
was  a  little  bit  jolly.  "We  have  a  law-suit  that  has  been 
pending  for  fifteen  years,  and  there  isn't  a  judge  in  the 
Supreme  Court  in  Manila  who  can  decide  it.  Let  us  see 
if  we  can  settle  it  on  the  chess  board.  What  do  you 
say?" 

The  game  of  chess  began  with  much  solemnity, 

"If  the  game  is  a  draw,"  said  Ibarra,  "it  is  understood 
that  the  suit  is  off." 

About  the  middle  of  the  game,  Ibarra  received  a  tele- 
gram which  made  his  eyes  glisten  and  his  face  grow  pale. 
He  put  it  in  his  pocket-book,  not,  however,  without  di- 
recting a  glance  at  the  group  of  young  women  who  con- 
tinued with  much  laughter  to  play  the  wheel  of  fortune. 

"Check  to  the  king!"  said  the  young  man. 


In  the  Woods.  73 

Captain  Basilio  had  no  other  resort  than  to  hide  him 
behind  the  queen. 

"Check  to  the  queen!"  said  Ibarra,  threatening  it  with 
his  rtok,  which  was  defended  by  a  pawn. 

Not  being  able  to  cover  the  queen,  nor  to  retire  it  on 
account  of  the  fact  that  the  king  was  behind  it,  Captain 
Basilio  asked  permission  to  study  the  situation  a  little. 

"Certainly,  with  much  pleasure,"  replied  Ibarra.  "I 
will  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity,  for  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  some  of  the  members  of  that  group  over 
there." 

And  rising  to  his  feet,  he  gave  his  opponent  half  an 
hour  to  study  it  out. 

Iday  held  in  her  hands  the  strip  of  cardboard  on  which 
was  written  forty-eight  questions,  while  Albino  held  the 
book  which  contained  the  answers. 

"That's  a  lie !  It's  not  so !  It  lies !"  cried  Sinang,  half 
in  tears. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  asked  Maria  Clara. 

"Just  imagine  it:  I  asked  the  question  *When  will  I 
have  some  sense  ?'  I  threw  the  dice  and  he,  this  all-night- 
watching  priest  (Albino,  the  ex-seminary  student)  reads 
from  the  book:  'When  the  frogs  grow  hairs.^  What  do 
you  think  of  that?" 

And  Sinang  made  a  face  at  the  former  religious  student, 
who  was  still  laughing  heartily. 

"Who  told  you  to  ask  such  a  question  ?"  said  her  cousin 
Victoria.  "Any  one  who  asks  such  a  question  deserves 
just  such  an  answer." 

"You  ask  a  question!"  said  they  all  to  Ibarra.  "We 
have  agreed  that  the  one  who  receives  the  best  answer 
shall  receive  a  gift  from  the  others.  We  have  all  asked 
our  questions  already." 

"And  who  has  received  the  best  answer?'^ 

"Maria  Clara,  Maria  Clara!"  replied  Sinang.  "We 
made  her  ask  the  question  whether  you  loved  her  or  not: 
'Is  your  lover  faithful  and  constant,'  and  the  book  re- 
plied  " 

But  Maria  Clara  colored  up,  and,  putting  her  hands 
over  Sinang's  mouth,  did  not  allow  her  to  finish  what  she 
had  to  say. 


74  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Then,  let  me  try  it,'^  said  Crisostomo,  smiling. 

He  asked  the  question:  ^^ill  I  succeed  in  my  present 
undertaking  ?" 

"You  are  going  to  get  a  bad  answer/*  exclaimed 
Sinang. 

Ibarra  threw  the  dice,  and  noting  the  number,  they 
looked  for  the  page  in  the  little  book  with  the  correspond- 
ing answer. 

"Dreams  are  only  dreams/'  read  Albino. 

Ibarra  took  out  his  pocket-book  and  opened  it  trem- 
bling. 

"This  time  your  book  has  lied,"  he  said,  full  of  joy. 
"Read  this  \" 

^Tlan  for  school  house  approved;  other  matter  de- 
cided in  your  favor.'' 

'^hat  does  that  mean?"  they  all  asked. 

"Did  you  not  tell  me  that  the  one  who  received  the  best 
answer  was  to  get  a  present?"  the  young  man  asked,  his 
voice  trembling  with  emotion  while  he  carefully  divided 
the  paper  into  two  parts. 

"Yes,  yes!" 

"Well,  then!  This  is  my  gift,"  he  said  handing  half 
of  the  telegram  to  Maria  Clara.  "I  am  going  to  have 
a  school  house  for  boys  and  girls  erected  in  the  town. 
This  school  house  will  be  my  gift." 

'^And  this  other  piece:  what  does  that  mean?" 

'^1  will  give  that  to  the  one  who  has  obtained  the  worst 
answer." 

"Then  that  is  for  me!"  exclaimed  Sinang. 

Ibarra  gave  her  the  piece  of  paper  and  quickly  went 
off. 

"And  what  does  this  mean?" 

But  the  happy  young  man  was  already  far  away  from 
the  little  group  and  he  did  not  reply.  He  had  gone  to 
finish  the  game  of  chess. 

After  making  the  present  to  his  betrothed,  Ibarra  was 
so  happy  that  he  began  to  play  without  stopping  to  think 
or  even  examining  carefully  the  position  of  the  chess. 
As  a  result,  although  Captain  Basilio  had  defended  him- 


In  the  Woods.  75 

self  only  by  the  greatest  effort,  the  young  man  made  so 
many  mistakes  that  the  game  resulted  in  a  draw. 

"We  end  the  suit,  we  end  the  suit!"  said  Captain 
Basilio,  happy  over  his  success. 

"Yes,  we  declare  it  off,"  repeated  the  young  man, 
"whatever  decision  the  judges  may  have  been  able  to 
reach." 

Each  grasped  the  hand  of  the  other  and  shook  it  with 
effusion. 

In  the  meantime,  while  those  present  were  celebrating 
the  ending  of  the  law-suit,  of  which  both  had  long  been 
tired,  four  Civil  Guards  and  a  sergeant  suddenly  arrived 
on  the  scene.  They  were  all  armed  and  had  their  bayonets 
fixed,  a  fact  which  naturally  disturbed  the  merriment  and 
brought  fright  into  the  circle  of  women. 

"Let  everybody  be  quiet!"  cried  the  sergeant.  "Who- 
ever moves  will  be  shot !" 

In  spite  of  this  gruff  boast,  Ibarra  rose  to  his  feet  and 
approached  the  sergeant. 

"What  do  you  wish?"  he  asked. 

"That  you  give  up  at  once  the  criminal  named  Elias 
who  acted  as  pilot  for  your  party  this  morning,"  he  re- 
plied, in  a  threatening  tone. 

"A  criminal?  The  pilot?  You  must  be  mistaken!" 
replied  Ibarra. 

"No,  sir;  that  Elias  is  now  accused  of  another  crime, 
of  having  laid  his  hands  on  a  priest ^' 

"Ah!^   And  is  the  pilot  the  one?" 

"He  is  the  same  one,  so  we  are  told.  You  are  allow- 
ing people  of  bad  reputation  to  attend  your  festivals, 
Senor  Ibarra." 

Ibarra  looked  at  him  from  head  to  foot  and  replied  with 
supreme  contempt:  "I  don't  have  to  account  to  you  for 
my  actions.  At  our  festivals  everybody  is  well  received, 
and  you  yourself,  if  you  had  come,  would  have  been 
given  a  seat  at  the  table,  the  same  as  the  alferez  who  was 
here  among  us  two  hours  ago." 

Saying  this,  Ibarra  turned  his  back  to  him.  The  ser- 
geant bit  his  mustache  and  ordered  his  men  to  search 
everywhere  among  the  trees  for  the  pilot,  whose  descrip- 
tion he  had  on  a  piece  of  paper. 


76  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Don  Filipo  said  to  him:  "Take  note  that  this  descrip- 
tion corresponds  to  that  of  nine-tenths  of  the  natives. 
Take  care  that  you  do  not  make  a  mistake  V 

At  last  the  soldiers  returned,  saying  that  they  had  not 
been  able  to  discover  either  a  hanca  or  a  man  that  aroused 
their  suspicion.  The  sergeant  murmured  a  few  indistinct 
words  and  then  marched  oif. 

Soon  the  people  became  jolly  again,  but  questions, 
wonder  and  comments  were  without  end. 

So  the  afternoon  passed  and  the  hour  for  departure 
arrived.  Just  as  the  sun  was  dropping  below  the  horizon 
they  left  the  woods.  The  trees  seemed  sad  and  all  the 
surroundings  seemed  to  bid  them  farewell  and  say: 
"Good-bye,  happy  youth;  good-bye,  dream  of  a  day." 

And  a  little  later,  by  the  light  of  glowing  torches  of 
bamboo  and  with  the  music  of  guitars,  we  leave  them 
on  the  road  toward  the  town. 


In  the  House  of  Tasio.  77 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  TASIO. 

On  the  morning  of  the  following  day,  Juan  Crisostomo 
Ibarra,  after  visiting  his  estates,  went  to  the  house  of 
Tasio,  the  philosopher,  his  father's  friend. 

Quiet  reigned  in  the  old  man's  garden.  The  swallows 
were  flying  about  the  gables  of  the  house,  but  they  were 
making  scarcely  a  sound.  The  windows  were  covered  with 
vines  which  clung  to  the  old,  moss-covered  wall  and  made 
the  house  appear  all  the  more  solitary  and  quiet.  Ibarra 
tied  his  horse  to  a  post  and,  walking  almost  on  tip-toes, 
crossed  the  clean  and  well-cultivated  garden.  He  went 
up  the  stairs  and,  as  the  door  was  open,  walked  in.  An 
old  man  leaned  over  a  book  in  which  he  seemed  to  be  writ- 
ing. On  the  walls  of  the  room  were  collections  of  in- 
sects and  leaves,  maps,  and  some  shelves  of  books  and 
manuscripts. 

Tasio  was  so  absorbed  in  his  work  that  he  did  not 
notice  the  arrival  of  the  youth.  The  latter,  not  wish- 
ing to  disturb  the  philosopher,  tried  to  retire  from  the 
place,  but  the  old  man,  looking  up,  said:  "What?  Are 
you  here?"  and  showed  no  little  surprise  in  his  look. 

"Excuse  me,"  replied  Ibarra,  "I  see  that  you  are  very 
busy." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact  I  was  writing  a  little,  but  it  is  not 
urgent,  and  I  want  to  rest  myself.  Can  I  be  useful  to 
you  in  any  way?" 

Ibarra  drew  some  papers  from  his  pocket-book  and 
replied:  "My  father  was  wont  to  consult  you  in  many 
things,  and  I  remember  that  he  never  had  to  do  other  than 
congratulate  himself  when  he  followed  your  advice.  I 
have  on  my  hands  a  small  undertaiking  and  I  want  to  be 
assured  of  success." 

Ibarra  then  related  to  him  briefly  his  plan  for  the  erec- 
tion of  a  school  house  in  honor  of  his  betrothed.    He 


78  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ehowed  tHe  stupefied  philosopher  the  plans  whicK  had 
been  returned  from  Manila. 

"I  wish  that  you  would  advise  me  as  to  what  persons 
I  ought  first  to  have  on  my  side  in  order  to  make  the 
undertaking  most  successful.  You  are  well  acquainted 
with  the  inhabitants  of  the  town.  I  have  just  arrived 
here  and  am  almost  a  stranger  in  my  country.'^ 

The  old  man  examined  the  plans  which  were  laid  out 
before  him.     His  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

''That  which  you  are  going  to  carry  out  was  a  dream  of 
mine,  the  dream  of  a  poor  fool/^  he  exclaimed,  greatly 
moved.  ''And  now,  my  first  advice  to  you  is  that  you 
never  come  to  consult  me  in  regard  to  the  matter." 

The  young  man  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"Because  sensible  people,"  he  continued,  in  an  ironical 
tone,  "will  take  you  for  a  fool,  like  myself.  People  al- 
ways consider  every  one  a  fool  who  does  not  think  just  as 
they  do  and,  for  this  reason,  they  call  me  crazy.  But  I 
am  obliged  to  them  for  that,  for  woe  be  to  me  when  the 
time  arrives  that  they  say  I  have  sense !  That  day,  should 
it  ever  come,  would  deprive  me  of  the  little  liberty  which 
I  have  purchased  by  sacrificing  my  reputation  for  being 
sane." 

And  the  old  man  shook  his  head,  as  if  to  drive  away  a 
thought  and  continued:  "My  second  advice  to  you  is  that 
you  consult  the  curate,  the  gohernadorcillo,  and  all  the 
people  of  good  standing.  They  will  all  give  you  bad,  fool- 
ish and  useless  advice,  but  to  consult  does  not  mean  to 
obey.  Try  to  appear  to  be  following  their  advice  as  far 
as  possible  and  make  them  think  you  are  working  ac- 
cording to  their  wishes." 

Ibarra  sat  thinking  for  a  moment  and  then  replied: 
"The  advice  is  good  but  difficult  to  follow.  Could  I  not 
carry  out  my  work  without  a  shadow  reflecting  upon  it? 
Could  I  not  carry  out  the  good  work  in  spite  of  all  ?  Does 
truth  need  to  be  clothed  in  the  garments  of  falsehood?" 

"That's  it.     Nobody  likes  the  bare  truth." 

"I  hope  to  be  able  to  realize  all  my  hopes  without  en- 
countering great  resistance,"  said  Ibarra. 

"Yes,  if  the  priests  lend  you  their  hand;  no,  if  they 
draw  it  away.     All  your  efforts  will  be  battered  to  pieces 


In  the  House  of  Tasio  79 

against  tHe  walls  of  the  curate's  house.  The  alcalde  will 
deny  to  you  to-morrow  what  he  has  granted  you  to-day. 
Not  a  mother  will  let  her  son  attend  the  school,  and  then 
all  your  efforts  will  have  just  an  opposite  effect  to  that  in- 
tended. You  will  discourage  all  others  who  might  wish 
to  attempt  beneficent  undertakings." 

"Nevertheless,"  replied  Ibarra,  "I  cannot  believe  in 
this  power  of  which  you  speak.  And  even  supposing  it 
to  be  true,  admitting  that  it  is  as  you  say,  would  I  not 
still  have  on  my  side  the  sensible  people  and  the  Govern- 
ment?" 

"The  Government!  The  Government!"  exclaimed  the 
philosopher,  raising  his  eyes  and  looking  at  the  ceiling. 
"However  much  the  Government  may  desire  to  uplift  the 
country  for  its  own  benefit  and  that  of  the  mother  coun- 
try; however  generous  may  be  the  Catholic  Kings  in 
spirit,  I  must  remind  you  in  confidence  that  there  is  an- 
other power  which  does  not  allow  the  Government  to  see, 
hear,  or  judge  except  what  the  curates  or  provincial 
priests  wish.  The  Government  is  afraid  of  the  advance- 
ment of  the  people,  and  the  people  are  afraid  of  the  forces 
of  the  Government.  So  long  as  the  Government  does  not 
understand  the  people  of  the  country,  the  country  will 
never  get  out  from  this  guardianship.  The  people  will 
live  like  weak,  young  children  who  tremble  at  the  sound 
of  the  voice  of  their  tutor,  whose  mercy  they  beg.  The 
Government  has  no  dreams  of  a  great  future,  a  healthy 
development  of  the  country.  The  people  do  not  com- 
plain, because  they  have  no  voice.  They  do  not  move, 
because  they  are  too  carefully  watched.  You  say  that 
they  do  not  suffer,  because  you  have  not  seen  what  would 
make  your  heart  bleed.  But  some  day  you  will  see  it! 
alas !  some  day  you  will  hear  it.  When  the  light  of  day 
is  thrown  on  their  monstrous  forms,  you  will  see  a  fright- 
ful reaction.  That  great  force,  held  back  for  centuries, 
that  poison,  distilled  drop  by  drop,  those  sighs,  so  long 
repressed — all  will  come  to  light  and  will  some  day  burst 
forth.  .  .  .  Who  will  then  pay  the  accounts  which 
the  people  will  present  and  which  History  preserves  for  us 
on  its  bloody  pages?" 

"God,  the  Government,  and  the  Church  will  never  allow 


80  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

that  day  to  come  V  replied  Crisostomo,  impressed  in  spite 
of  himself.  "The  Filipinos  are  religious  and  they  love 
Spain.  The  Filipinos  will  always  know  how  much  this 
nation  has  done  for  them.  There  are  abuses ;  yes !  There 
are  defects;  I  do  not  deny  it.  But  Spain  is  working  to 
introduce  reforms  which  will  correct  them;  she  is  de- 
vising plans;  she  is  not  selfish.  Can  it  be  that  my  love 
for  my  native  land  is  incompatible  with  love  for  Spain? 
Is  it  necessary  to  lower  one's  self  to  be  a  good  Christian, 
to  prostitute  one's  own  conscience  to  bring  about  good? 
I  love  my  fatherland,  the  Philippines,  because  I  owe  to 
her  my  life  and  my  happiness — ^because  every  man  should 
love  his  native  land.  I  love  Spain,  the  fatherland  of  my 
ancestors,  because,  in  spite  of  all  that  may  be  said,  the 
Philippines  owe  to  Spain,  and  always  will  owe  to  her, 
their  happiness  and  their  future.  I  am  a  Catholic.  I 
hold  dear  the  belief  of  my  fathers,  and  I  do  not  see  why 
I  have  to  bow  my  head  when  I  am  able  to  raise  it;  nor 
why  I  have  to  entrust  it  to  my  enemies,  when  I  can  trample 
on  them." 

^'Because  the  field  in  which  you  are  sowing  your  seed 
is  in  the  hands  of  your  enemies,  and  you  are  weak  in  com- 
parison to  them.  .  .  .  It  is  necessary  that  you  first 
kiss  the  hand " 

But  the  young  man  did  not  allow  him  to  go  farther 
and  exclaimed  violently :  "To  kiss  their  hands  !  You  for- 
get that,  between  them,  they  killed  my  father;  they  threw 
his  body  out  of  its  sepulchre:  but  I,  I  who  am  his  son,  I 
do  not  forget  it,  and,  if  I  do  not  avenge  myself,  it  is 
because  I  consider  the  prestige  of  the  Church." 

The  old  philosopher  bowed  his  head.  "Senor  Ibarra," 
he  replied  slowly,  "if  you  keep  those  memories — mem- 
ories which  I  cannot  advise  you  to  forget — if  you  keep 
those  memories,  give  up  your  plans  and  your  undertaking 
and  try  to  work  good  for  your  countrymen  in  another  way. 
The  undertaking  needs  another  man  than  you  for  its  exe- 
cution, because  to  carry  it  out  will  not  only  require  money 
and  care,  but,  in  our  country,  self-denial,  tenacity  and 
faith  are  also  needed.  The  land  is  not  read3r  for  it;  it 
has  been  sown  only  with  darnel." 

Ibarra  understood  the  weight  of  these  words,  but  he 


In  the  House  of  Tasio.  81 

was  not  going  to  be  discouraged.     Thoughts  of  Maria 
Clara  filled  his  mind;  he  must  fulfill  his  promise  to  her. 
"Does  not  your  experience  suggest  something  other  than 
this  hard  method?"  he  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

The  old  man  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led  him  to  the 
window.  A  cool  breeze  was  blowing  from  the  north.  Be- 
fore his  eyes  lay  the  garden,  stretching  out  to  the  large 
forest  which  served  as  a  park. 

"Why  do  we  not  have  to  do  the  same  as  that  weak 
young  bush  loaded  with  roses  and  buds?''  said  the  phi- 
losopher pointing  to  a  beautiful  rose  bush.  "The  wind 
blows,  shakes  it  and  it  bends  itself  down  as  if  trying 
to  hide  its  precious  load.  If  the  bush  kept  itself  erect, 
it  would  be  broken  off,  the  wind  would  scatter  its  flowers 
and  the  buds  would  be  blighted.  The  wind  passes  over, 
and  the  bush  straightens  itself  up  again,  proud  of  its 
treasure.  Thus  it  would  be  with  you,  a  plant  trans- 
planted from  Europe  to  this  stony  ground,  if  you  did  not 
look  about  for  some  support  and  belittle  yourself.  Alone 
and  lofty,  you  are  in  bad  condition." 

"And  would  this  sacrifice  bring  the  fruits  that  I  hope 
for?"  asked  Ibarra.  "Would  the  priest  have  faith  in  me 
and  would  he  forget  the  offense?  Would  his  kind  not  be 
able  to  feign  friendship,  to  make  a  false  show  of  protect- 
ing me,  and  then,  from  behind  in  the  darkness,  fight  me, 
harass  me  and  wound  my  heels,  thus  making  me  waver 
more  quickly  than  they  could  by  attacking  me  face  to  face  ? 
Given  these  premises,  what  do  you  think  could  be  ex- 
pected?" 

The  old  man  remained  silent  for  some  time,  not  being 
able  to  reply.  At  last  he  said:  "If  such  a  thing  took 
place,  if  the  undertaking  failed,I  would  console  you  with 
the  thought  that  you  had  done  all  that  was  in  your  power. 
And  even  so,  something  would  be  gained.  Lay  the  first 
stone,  sow  the  first  seed  and  after  the  tempest  has  passed 
over,  some  little  grain  perhaps  would  germinate." 

"I  believe  you,"  exclaimed  Ibarra,  stretching  out  his 
hand.  "Not  in  vain  did  I  look  for  good  advice.  This 
very  day  I  shall  go  and  make  friends  with  the  curate." 

Taking  leave  of  the  old  man,  he  mounted  on  his  horse 
and  rode  away. 


82  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Attention!'^  murmured  the  pessimistic  philosoplier  to 
himself,  as  he  followed  the  young  man  with  his  eyes. 
"Let  us  observe  carefully  how  Destiny  will  unfold  the 
tragedy  which  began  in  the  cemetery/' 

But  this  time  the  philosopher  was  truly  mistaken.  The 
tragedy  had  begun  long  before. 


The  Eve  of  the  Fiesta.  83 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  EVE  OF  THE  FIESTA. 

It  is  the  tenth  of  November,  the  eve  of  the  fiesta  to  be 
celebrated  in  the  town  of  San  Diego.  Departing  from 
its  habitual  monotony,  the  town  is  displaying  extraordi- 
nary activity  in  the  church,  houses,  streets,  cock-pit,  and 
the  fields.  Windows  are  draped  with  flags  and  many- 
colored  decorations.  Music  and  the  sound  of  exploding 
fireworks  fill  the  air.     Everywhere  there  is  rejoicing. 

In  the  streets  at  fixed  intervals,  beautifid  arches  of 
bamboo  are  raised,  the  wood  carved  and  worked  in  a  thou- 
sand dijfferent  ways.  The  arches  are  surrounded  with  or- 
naments, the  very  sight  of  which  brings  joy  to  the  heart  of 
the  small  boy.  In  the  church  yard,  a  large  and  costly 
awning  has  been  erected.  It  is  propped  up  by  bamboo 
poles  and  so  arranged  that  the  procession  may  pass  under 
it.  Under  its  shade  the  children  play,  run,  jump,  fall 
and  otherwise  manage  to  tear  and  soil  their  new  shirts, 
which  have  been  intended  for  the  day  of  the  festival. 

In  the  public  square  a  platform  has  been  built  of 
bamboo,  nipa  and  boards,  to  serve  as  the  stage.  It  is  here 
that  the  comedy  company  from  Tondo  will  tell  wonderful 
tales,  and  will  compete  with  the  gods  in  the  performance 
of  miracles.  Here  Marianito,  Chananay,  Balbino,  Ratia, 
Carvajal,  Yeyeng,  Liceria  and  the  others  will  sing  and 
dance.  The  Filipino  loves  the  theatre,  and  always  attends 
dramatic  productions  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  The 
gohernadorcillo  was  very  fond  of  the  theatre,  and,  with 
the  advice  of  the  curate,  he  had  selected  for  the  fiesta  the 
fantastic  comedy:  "Prince  Villardo,  or  the  Nails  Pulled 
Out  of  the  Infamous  Cave,"  a  play  full  of  magic  and 
fireworks. 

From  time  to  time  the  bells  ring  out  their  merry  sounds. 
Firecrackers  and  the  booming  of  little  cannon  rend  the 


84  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

air.  The  Filipino  pyrotechnist,  who  has  learned  his  art 
without  a  teacher  of  any  renown,  displays  his  skill,  setting 
up  pieces  representing  towers,  castles,  and  the  like. 
Already  the  small  boys  are  running  at  break-neck  speed  to- 
ward the  outskirts  of  the  town  to  meet  the  bands  of  music. 
Five  organizations  have  been  hired,  besides  three  orchestras. 
A  band  enters  the  town  playing  lively  marches,  and  is 
followed  by  a  lot  of  ragged  and  half  naked  pickaninnies: 
this  one,  perhaps,  has  on  his  brother's  shirt;  that  one,  his 
father's  trousers.  As  soon  as  the  music  stops,  these  little 
tots  know  by  memory  the  piece  that  has  been  played ;  they 
whistle  and  hum  it  with  great  delight,  showing  at  this 
early  age  their  musical  talent. 

In  the  meantime  wagons  and  carriages  arrive,  bring- 
ing relatives,  friends,  and  strangers.  Gamblers  are  also 
on  hand  with  their  best  fighting  cocks  and  bags  of  money, 
ready  to  risk  their  fortunes  on  the  green  cloth  or  in  the 
cock-pit. 

"The  alferez  gets  fifty  dollars  a  night,"  murmured  a 
little,  chubby  man  when  he  heard  of  the  recent  arrivals, 
for  there  were  already  many  rumors  that  these  people 
bribed  the  officer  so  that  they  might  not  be  interfered  with 
by  the  law.  "Captain  Tiago,"  he  added,  "is  going  to  come 
and  will  be  banker  in  the  monte  game.  Captain  Joaquin 
brings  eighteen  thousand.  There  is  going  to  be  a  liam-po* 
and  the  Chino  Carlos  is  going  to  back  it  with  ten  thousand 
pesos  capital.  Big  bettors  will  come  from  Tanauan,  Lipa, 
and  Batangas,  as  well  as  from  Santa  Cruz.  It's  going  to 
be  great !  It's  going  to  be  great !  This  year  Captain 
Tiago  will  not  skin  us  as  he  has  in  the  past,  for  he  has  not 
paid  for  more  than  three  masses  this  year,  and  besides, 
I  have  a  mutya\  of  cacao.  And  how  are  all  the  family?" 
"Very  well,  very  well,  thank  you!"  replied  the  visitors 
from  the  country. 

But  the  place  where  the  greatest  animation  reigns,  where 

there  is  almost  a  tumult,  is  over  there  on  the  level  piece  of 

ground,   a   short  distance   from   Ibarra's  house.     Pulleys 

creak,  and  the  place  resounds  with  the  sound  of  the  ham- 

*A  Chinese  gambliDg  game. 

t  A  little  white,  pearl-like  substance  sometimes  found  in  the 
cacao  tree,  which  is  supposed  to  be  a  lucky  omen. 


The  Eve  of  the  Fiesta.  85 

mer,  the  chiseling  of  stones,  hewing  of  beams  and  the 
shouting  of  voices.  A  gang  of  workmen  is  making  an 
excavation  which  will  be  wide  and  deep;  others  are  busy 
piling  up  quarry  stone,  unloading  carts,  sifting  sand,  put- 
ting a  capstan  in  place  and  so  on. 

"Put  that  here!  That,  there!  Come,  be  lively  about 
it  I"  shouts  a  little,  old  man  with  an  animated  and  intelli- 
gent physiognomy  as  he  goes  about,  a  yard  stick  and  plumb 
line  in  hand.  He  is  the  director  of  the  work,  Nor  Juan, 
architect,  mason,  carpenter,  whitewasher,  locksmith, 
painter,  stone  cutter,  and,  on  occasion,  sculptor. 

"We  must  finish  it  immediately!  To-morrow  nothing 
can  be  done,  and  day  after  to-morrow  the  ceremony  of 
laying  the  corner  stone  is  to  take  place !     Come,  be  lively !" 

"Make  the  hole  just  large  enough  for  this  cylinder!" 
said  he  to  one  of  the  stone  cutters  who  was  chiseling  off 
a  large  quadrangular  stone.  "Inside  of  this  our  names 
will  be  kept.^' 

Then  he  would  repeat  to  every  countryman  who  came 
along  what  he  had  already  said  a  thousand  times :  "Do  you 
know  what  we  are  going  to  build?  Well,  it  is  a  school 
house,  a  model  of  its  kind,  something  like  those  in  Ger- 
many, but  still  better.  The  architect,  Senor  K.,  draughted 
the  plans  and  I,  I  am  in  charge  of  the  work.  Yes,  sir,  you 
see  this  is  going  to  be  a  regular  palace  with  two  wings,  one 
for  the  boys  and  one  for  the  girls.  Here  in  the  middle  is  to 
be  a  large  garden  with  three  fountains.  There,  on  the 
sides,  groves,  where  the  children  can  sow  and  cultivate 
plants  during  the  hours  of  recreation,  thus  improving  the 
time.  Just  see  how  deep  the  foundations  are  to  be :  three 
meters  and  seventy-five  centimeters.  The  building  is  going 
to  have  a  cellar  where  the  indolent  pupils  will  be  confined. 
This  will  be  very  close  to  the  playing  ground  and  the  gym- 
nasium, so  that  those  who  are  punished  may  hear  the 
diligent  pupils  enjoying  themselves.  Do  you  see  this  large 
space?  Well,  this  will  be  a  place  for  them  to  run  and 
jump.  The  girls  wiil  have  a  separate  garden  with  benches, 
swings,  a  special  place  for  jumping  the  rope  and  rolling 
hoops,  fountains  and  a  bird-house.  This  is  going  to  be 
magnificent !" 


83  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

He  kept  going  from  one  end  to  the  other,  inspecting 
everything  and  passing  his  opinion  on  all. 

"1  find  that  you  have  got  too  much  lumber  here  for  a 
crane,"  said  he  to  a  yellowish-looking  fellow,  who  was 
directing  some  other  laborers.  "I  would  have  enough, 
with  three  large  beams,  to  form  the  tripod  and  with  three 
others  to  serve  as  supporters." 

"0,  pshaw!"  replied  the  other,  smiling  in  a  peculiar 
way.  "The  more  apparatus  we  give  ourselves,  the  greater 
effect  we  will  produce.  The  massiveness  of  it  will  make 
a  bigger  show  and  give  it  more  importance.  They  will 
say:  'What  a  lot  of  work  has  been  done!'  You  look  at 
that  crane  that  I  am  constructing.  In  a  little  while,  I  am 
going  to  ornament  it  with  handerolas,  garlands  of  flowers 
and  leaves,  and  .  .  .  you  will  say  afterward  that  you 
were  right  in  hiring  me,  and  Senor  Ibarra  cannot  wish  for 
more  than  that!" 

The  man  laughed.  'Not  Juan  also  smiled  and  shook 
his  head. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  plan  for  the  school  had  been 
approved  by  everybody  and  all  were  talking  about  it. 
The  curate  had  asked  to  be  allowed  to  be  one  of  the  patrons 
of  the  enterprise  and  he  himself  was  to  bless  the  laying  of 
the  corner  stone,  a  ceremony  which  would  take  place 
on  the  last  day  of  the  San  Diego  festival,  as  it  was  con- 
sidered one  of  the  great  solemnities. 

The  dismal  presentiments  of  the  old  Tasio  seemed  to 
have  been  dissipated  forever.  One  day  Ibarra  told  the 
old  man  so,  but  the  old  pessimist  only  replied:  "Things 
may  go  well  at  first,  but  be  on  your  guard  against  masked 


As  Night  Comes  On.  87 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

AS  NIGHT  COMES  ON. 

Great  preparations  had  also  been  made  in  the  house 
of  Captain  Tiago.  We  are  already  acquainted  with  the 
man.  His  love  for  pomp  and  his  pride  in  being  a  resi- 
dent of  Manila  made  it  necessary  that  he  should  outdo 
the  residents  of  the  province  in  the  splendor  of  his  cele- 
bration. There  was  another  thing,  too,  which  made  it 
necessary  that  he  should  try  to  eclipse  all  others — the  fact 
that  his  daughter  Maria  Clara  and  his  future  son-in-law 
were  also  there.  His  prospective  connection  with  Ibarra 
caused  the  Captain  to  be  often  spoken  of  among  the 
people. 

Yes,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  one  of  the  most  serious  news- 
papers in  Manila  had  printed  an  article  on  its  first  page, 
headed  "Imitate  Him !"  in  which  they  offered  Ibarra  much 
advice  and  highly  eulogized  him.  The  article  spoke  of 
him  as  "the  illustrious  and  rich  young  capitalist."  Two 
lines  below,  he  was  termed  "the  distinguished  philan- 
thropist," and,  in  the  following  paragraph,  referred  to  as 
the  "disciple  of  Minerva  who  went  to  his  Mother  Coun- 
try to  salute  the  real  birthplace  of  arts  and  sciences." 
Captain  Tiago  was  burning  with  generous  emulation  and 
was  wondering  whether  he  ought  not  to  erect  a  convent  at 
his  own  expense. 

Days  before  the  week  of  festivities,  numerous  boxes  of 
provisions  and  drinks,  colossal  mirrors,  pictures,  paintings 
and  his  daughter's  piano  had  arrived  at  the  house.  Maria 
Clara  and  Aunt  Isabel  were  already  living  there.  Cap- 
tain Tiago  came  on  the  day  before  the  beginning  of  the 
festival.  As  he  kissed  his  daughter's  hand,  he  made  her 
a  present  of  a  beautiful  religious  relic.  It  was  solid  gold, 
and  set  with  diamonds  and  emeralds,  and  contained  a 
little  sliver  from  Saint  Peter's  boat,  in  .which  Our 
Saviour  sat  while  fishing. 


88  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

The  Captain^s  interview  with  his  future  son-in-law 
could  not  have  been  more  cordial.  Naturally,  the  school 
house  was  the  subject  of  conversation.  Captain  Tiago 
wanted  him  to  call  the  school  "The  San  Francisco 
School.'^ 

"Believe  meV  he  said.  "San  Francisco  is  a  good 
patron  saint.  If  you  call  it  'The  Primary  School/  you 
gain  nothing.     Who  is  Primary,  anyway?'' 

Some  friends  of  Maria  Clara  arrived  and  invited  her  to 
go  for  a  walk. 

"But  return  quickly,"  said  the  Captain  to  his  daughter, 
who  asked  for  his  permission.  "You  know  that  Father 
Damaso  is  going  to  dine  with  us  to-night.  He  has  just 
arrived." 

And  turning  to  Ibarra  who  was  deep  in  thought,  he 
added:  "You  will  dine  with  us,  too?  You  will  be  all 
alone  at  home." 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure,  I  assure  you,  if  I  did  not 
have  to  be  at  home  to-night  to  receive  visitors,"  replied 
the  young  man,  mumbling  his  words  and  evading  Maria 
Clara's  glance. 

"Bring  your  friends  along  with  you,"  replied  Captain 
Tiago  cheerfully.  "In  my  house  there  is  always  enough 
to  eat.  And,  besides  I  would  like  to  have  you  and  Father 
Damaso  understand  each  other." 

"There'll  be  time  enough  for  that,"  replied  Ibarra,  put- 
ting on  a  forced  smile  and  making  ready  to  accompany 
the  young  ladies. 

They  went  downstairs.  Maria  Clara  was  walking  be- 
tween Victoria  and  Iday,  while  Aunt  Isabel  followed  be- 
hind. 

As  they  passed  down  the  street,  people  stood  aside  re- 
spectfully and  gave  them  the  inside  of  the  way.  Maria 
Clara  was  surprisingly  beautiful  now.  Her  paleness  had 
disappeared,  and  although  her  eyes  were  thoughtful,  her 
mouth,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  all  smiles.  With  that 
amiability  known  only  to  a  happy  maiden,  she  saluted 
friends  she  had  known  from  childhood  who  to-day  were 
admirers  of  her  youthful  beauty.  In  less  than  fifteen 
days  she  had  regained  that  frank  confidence,  that  child- 
ish chatter,  jvhich  seemed  for  awhile  to  have  been  left 


As  Night  Comes  On.  89 

behind  in  the  narrow  walls  of  the  convent.  It  seemed  as 
though  the  butterfly  upon  leaving  its  shell  knew  all  the 
flowers  at  once.  It  was  enough  that  she  be  given  a  mo- 
ment of  flight  and  an  opportunity  to  warm  herself  in  the 
golden  rays  of  the  sun,  in  order  to  throw  off  the  rigidity 
of  the  chrysalis.  New  life  shone  out  in  every  part  of  her 
young  being.  Everything  she  met  with  was  good  and 
beautiful.  Her  love  was  manifested  with  virginal  grace, 
and  innocent  in  thought,  she  saw  nothing  to  cause  her  to 
put  on  false  blushes.  However,  she  was  wont  to  cover  her 
face  with  her  fan  when  they  joked  with  her,  but  her  eyes 
would  smile  and  a  gentle  tremor  would  pass  over  hei: 
whole  being. 

In  front  of  Captain  Basilio's  house  were  some  young 
men  who  saluted  our  acquaintances  and  invited  them  into 
the  house.  The  merry  voice  of  Sinang  was  heard,  as  she 
descended  the  stairs  on  a  run  and  at  once  put  an  end  to 
all  excuses. 

"Come  up  a  moment  so  that  I  can  go  out  with  you,'' 
said  she.  "It  bores  me  to  be  among  so  many  strangers 
who  talk  about  nothing  but  fighting-cocks  and  playing 
cards.'' 

They  went  upstairs.  The  house  was  full  of  people. 
Some  advanced  to  greet  Ibarra,  whose  name  was  known  to 
all.  They  contemplated  with  ecstacy  Maria  Clara's 
beauty,  and  some  of  the  matrons  murmured  as  they  chewed 
their  betel-nut:  "She  looks  like  the  Virgin!" 

After  they  had  partaken  of  chocolate  they  resumed 
their  walk.  In  the  corner  of  the  plaza  a  beggar  was  sing- 
ing the  romance  of  the  fishes,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
a  guitar.  He  was  a  common  sight,  a  man  miserably 
dressed  and  wearing  a  wide-brimmed  hat  made  out  of  palm 
leaves.  His  clothing  consisted  of  a  frock  coat  covered 
with  patches,  and  a  pair  of  wide  trousers  such  as  the 
Chinese  wear,  but  torn  in  many  places.  From  beneath 
the  brim  of  his  hai  two  fiery  orbs  flashed  out  a  ray  of 
light.  He  was  tall  and  from  his  manner  seemed  to  be 
young.  He  put  a  basket  down  on  the  ground  and,  after- 
wards walking  away  from  it  a  little  distance,  he  uttered 
strange,  unintelligible  sounds.  He  remained  standing, 
completely  isolated,  as  if  he  and  the  people^in  the_street 


90  Friars  and  Filipinos."^ 

were  trying  to  avoid  each  other.  Women  approached  his 
basket,  and  dropped  into  it  fish,  fruit  and  rice.  When 
there  was  no  one  else  to  approach  the  basket,  other  sadder 
bnt  less  mournful  sounds  could  be  heard;  perhaps  he  was 
thanking  them.  He  picked  up  his  basket  and  walked  away 
to  do  the  same  in  another  place. 

Maria  Clara  felt  that  this  was  a  pitiful  case.  Full  of 
interest,  she  asked  about  the  strange  being. 

^'It  is  a  leper,"  replied  Iday.  "He  contracted  the 
disease  some  four  years  ago;  some  say  by  taking  care  of 
his  mother,  others  by  having  been  confined  in  a  damp 
prison.  He  lives  there  in  the  field  near  the  Chinese  ceme- 
tery. He  does  not  communicate  with  any  one:  everybody 
flees  from  him  on  account  of  the  fear  of  contagion.  You 
should  see  his  fantastic  little  house!  The  wind,  the  rain 
and  the  sunshine  go  in  and  out  of  it  as  a  needle  goes 
through  cloth.  They  have  prohibited  him  from  touching 
anything  belonging  to  anybody.  One  day  a  little  child 
fell  into  the  canal.  The  canal  was  deep,  but  this  man 
happened  to  be  passing  near  and  helped  to  get  the  little 
child  out.  The  child's  father  learned  of  it,  made  a  com- 
plaint to  the  gohernadorcillo  and  the  latter  ordered  that 
he  be  given  six  stripes  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  the  whip 
to  be  afterwards  burned.  That  was  atrocious!  The 
leper  ran  away  howling;  they  pursued  him  and  the  go- 
hernadorcillo cried  out:  Tatch  him!  One  might  better 
be  drowned  than  have  that  disease !' " 

"That  is  true,"  murmured  Maria  Clara.  And  then, 
without  noticing  what  she  was  doing,  she  went  up  to  the 
basket  of  the  unfortunate  wretch  and  dropped  into  it  the 
relic  which  her  father  had  Just  presented  to  her. 

"What  have  you  done?"  her  friends  asked  her. 

"I  have  nothing  else  to  give  him,"  she  replied,  con- 
cealing the  tears  in  her  eyes  by  a  smile. 

"And  what  is  he  going  to  do  with  the  relic?"  said 
Victoria  to  her.  "One  day  they  gave  him  money  but  he 
pushed  it  away  from  him  with  his  cane.  Why  would  he 
care  for  it,  if  no  one  would  accept  anything  coming  from 
him  ?     If  he  could  only  eat  the  relic !" 

Maria  Clara  looked  longingly  at  the  women  who  were 
celling  provisions  and  shrugged  her  shoulders. 


As  Night  Comes  On.  91 

But  the  leper  approached  the  basket,  picked  up  the 
piece  of  jewelry  which  shone  in  his  hands,  knelt  down, 
kissed  it,  and,  after  taking  off  his  hat,  buried  his  face  in 
the  dust  on  which  the  young  girl  had  walked. 

Maria  Clara  hid  her  face  behind  her  fan  and  raised  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 


92  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  HOISTING  CRANE. 

While  two  of  the  actors  were  singing  the  Incarnatus 
est  in  the  church  at  the  celebration  of  mass  on  the  last 
day  of  the  fiesta,  and  all  were  kneeling  and  the  priests 
were  bowing  their  heads,  a  man  whispered  in  Ibarra's  ear : 
"During  the  ceremony  of  the  blessing  of  the  corner  stone, 
do  not  go  near  the  priest,  do  not  go  in  the  ditch,  do 
not  approach  the  corner  stone.  Your  life  will  depend 
on  it.'' 

Ibarra  looked  and  saw  that  it  was  Elias,  the  pilot,  but, 
as  soon  as  he  had  spoken,  he  lost  himself  in  the  crowd. 

The  yellow-skinned  man  kept  his  word.  It  was  not  a 
simple  lifting  crane  which  he  had  built  over  the  ditch 
for  the  purpose  of  lowering  the  enormous  block  of  granite. 
It  was  not  the  mere  tripod  which  ;N"or  Juan  had  wanted 
for  holding  a  tackle-block.  It  was  something  more.  It 
was  at  the  same  time  a  machine  and  an  ornament,  grand 
and  imposing. 

The  confusing  and  complicated  scaffolding  had  been 
raised  to  a  height  of  more  than  eight  meters.  Four  heavy 
timbers  buried  in  the  ground  and  supporting  each  other 
with  colossal,  diagonal  braces,  served  as  the  base.  The  braces 
were  joined  to  each  other  by  immense  nails,  about  half 
driven  into  the  wood,  perhaps  because  the  apparatus  was 
only  of  a  provisional  nature,  and  it  could  then  be  more 
easily  taken  down.  Enormous  cables  were  hanging  from 
all  sides,  giving  the  entire  apparatus  an  aspect  of  solidity 
and  grandeur.  The  top  was  gay  with  flags  and  banners 
of  various  colors,  floating  pennants,  and  massive  garlands 
of  flowers  and  leaves,  all  artistically  interwoven. 

On  high,  in  the  shade  of  the  projecting  timbers,  ban- 
ners and  wreaths,  a  large  three-wheeled  tackle-block  was 
suspended  by  ropes  and  iron   hooks.     Over    the    shining 


The  Hoisting  Crane.  93 

rims  of  these  pulleys  great  cables  passed,  holding  sus- 
pended in  the  air  a  massive  stone.  The  center  of  this 
stone  had  been  chiseled  out  so  that  when  lowered  upon 
the  hollowed  stone,  which  had  already  been  placed  in  the 
ditch,  a  small  enclosure  would  be  formed  between  the  two. 
This  space  was  to  contain  an  account  of  the  ceremonies, 
newspapers,  manuscripts  and  coins,  to  be  transmitted,  per- 
haps, to  other  generations,  in  the  far  distant  future.  From 
this  tackle-block  at  the  top  of  the  structure,  the  cable  passed 
down  to  another  smaller  pulley  which  was  fastened  at  the 
base  of  the  apparatus.  Through  this  pulley,  the  cable  passed 
to  the  cylinder  of  a  windlass  which  was  held  to  the  ground 
by  massive  beams.  This  windlass  which  can  be  operated 
by  only  two  hands,  multiplies  man's  strength  by  means 
of  a  series  of  cog-wheels.  Although  there  is  a  gain  in 
force,  there   is  of  course   a  loss  in  velocity. 

"Look !"  said  the  yellow-skinned  man,  as  he  gave  the 
crank  a  turn.  "Look,  'Rot  Juan,  with  my  strength  alone, 
I  can  raise  and  lower  that  massive  block  of  stone.  This 
is  so  nicely  arranged  that  I  cap  control  the  ascent  or 
descent  of  the  stone  by  inches.  Thus  one  man  below  can 
arrange  the  two  stones  in  place,  while  I  manipulate  the 
apparatus  from  here." 

Nor  Juan  could  but  admire  the  man  as  he  smiled 
in  such  a  peculiar  manner.  The  curious  people  standing 
about  made  comments  and  praised  the  yellow-skinned  man 
for  his  work. 

"Who  taught  you  the  mechanism?"  asked  iR'or  Juan. 

"My  father,  my  father  who  is  now  dead,"  he  replied, 
with  that  same  peculiar  smile. 

"And  who  taught  your  father?" 

"Don  Saturnino,  the  grandfather  of  Don  Crisostomo." 

"I  did  not  know  that  Don  Saturnine " 

"Oh,  he  knew  a  good  many  things.  Not  only  did  he 
know  how  to  whip  well  and  how  to  expose  his  workmen  to 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  but  he  knew  also  how  to  awaken  the 
sleeping  and  how  to  make  those  awake  sleep.  In  time, 
you  will  see  what  my  father  has  taught  me,  you  will  see !" 

And  the  yellow  fellow  smiled  in  a  strange  manner. 

At  two  eating  stands,  there  was  now  being  prepared 
a  sumptuous  and  abundant  breakfast.     However,  on  the 


94  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

table  designated  for  the  little  ones  of  the  school,  there  was 
no  wine,  but  instead  a  larger  amount  of  fruit.  In  a 
covered  passage  which  joined  the  two  stands,  there  were 
seats  for  the  musicians  and  a  table  covered  with  sweet- 
meats, candies  and  flasks  of  water,  ornamented  with  leaves 
and  flowers,  for  the  thirsty  public. 

The  crowd,  resplendent  in  gay-colored  clothes,  was  al- 
ready fleeing  from  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun  and  gathering 
under  the  shade  of  the  trees  or  of  the  covering.  The  small 
boys  climbed  the  trees  near  the  place,  in  order  to  get  a 
better  view  of  the  ceremony,  and  looked  with  envy  upon 
the  school  children,  who,  clean  and  well  dressed,  were 
occupying  a  place  designated  for  them.  The  fathers  of 
the  school  children  were  enthusiastic.  They,  poor  coun- 
trymen that  they  were,  would  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
their  children  eat  on  a  white  table  cloth,  just  like  the 
curate  and  the  Alcalde.  Merely  to  think  of  it  was  enough 
to  drive  away  their  hunger. 

Soon  strains  of  music  were  heard  in  the  distance.  A 
promiscuous  crowd  of  persons  of  all  ages  and  dress  was 
preceding  the  band.  The  yellow-looking  man  was  uneasy 
and  was  examining  the  whole  apparatus.  A  curious  coun- 
tryman was  also  following  his  glances  and  was  observing 
every  movement  he  made.  This  countryman  was  Elias, 
who  had  also  come  to  attend  the  ceremony.  His  hat 
and  his  style  of  dress  almost  concealed  his  identity.  He 
had  secured  the  best  possible  place  for  himself,  right  up 
close  to  the  crane,  on  the  edge  of  the  excavation. 

With  the  band  of  music  came  the  Alcalde,  the  officials 
of  the  town,  the  friars,  with  the  exception  of  Father 
Damaso,  and  the  Spanish  employees  of  the  Government. 
Ibarra  was  conversing  with  the  Alcalde,  for  they  had 
become  quite  friendly  from  the  time  the  young  man  paid 
him  some  high  compliments  on  his  insignia,  decorations 
and  cordon.  Pride  in  belonging  to  an  aristocratic  family 
was  a  weakness  of  His  Excellency.  Captain  Tiago,  the 
alferez  and  several  wealthy  persons,  with  their  shining 
silk  hats,  walked  along,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  young- 
sters. Father  Salvi  followed,  the  same  as  ever,  silent 
and  pensive. 

The  young  man  could  feel  his  heart  beat  as  they  ap« 


^  *  "*  The  Hoisting  Crane.  95 

preached  the  designated  place.  Instinctively,  he  glanced 
at  the  strange-looking  scaffolding  which  had  been  raised 
there.  He  saw,  too,  the  yellow-looking  man  who  saluted 
him  with  respect,  and,  for  a  moment,  Ibarra  fixed  his  eyes 
on  him.  To  his  surprise,  Ibarra  also  discovered  Elias  on 
the  edge  of  the  excavation.  He  gave  the  young  pilot  a 
significant  look,  letting  him  understand  that  he  remem- 
bered what  he  had  said  in  the  church. 

The  curate  put  on  his  sacerdotal  vestments  and  began 
the  ceremony.  The  one-eyed  sacristan  mayor  held  the 
book  and  a  choir  boy  was  charged  with  the  water-sprinkler 
and  the  vessel  of  blessed  water.  The  others  who  stood 
around  about,  their  heads  uncovered,  maintained  a  deep 
silence.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  Father  Salvi  read  in  a 
low  tone,  it  could  be  noticed  that  his  voice  trembled. 

In  the  meantime  the  articles,  such  as  manuscripts, 
newspapers,  medals  and  coins,  which  were  to  be  placed 
in  the  corner  stone  had  been  enclosed  in  a  little  glass  box, 
and  hermetically  sealed  in  a  leaden  cylinder. 

"Senor  Ibarra,  do  you  wish  to  put  the  box  in  its 
place?     The  curate  awaits  it,"  said  the  Alcalde  to  Ibarra. 

"I  would  do  so  with  much  pleasure,"  replied  he,  ''but 
I  would  be  usurping  the  honorable  duty  of  the  Senor 
Notary.     The  Notary  ought  to  attest  the  act." 

The  Notary  took  it  seriously,  descended  the  carpeted 
stairs  to  the  bottom  of  the  excavation  and,  with  fitting 
solemnity,  deposited  the  box  in  the  hollow  which  had  been 
made  in  the  stone.  The  curate  then  took  up  the  sprinkler 
and  sprinkled  the  stones  with  holy  water. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  each  one  to  put  his  trowel- 
ful  of  mortar  on  the  surface  of  the  stone,  which  lay  in 
the  ditch,  so  that  the  other  stone  might  fit  upon  it  and  be 
made  to  adhere  to  it. 

Ibarra  presented  the  Alcalde  with  a  trowel,  upon  whose 
wide  silver  blade  was  engraved  the  date.  But  His  Ex- 
cellency first  delivered  an  address  in  Spanish. 

"Citizens  of  San  Diego,"  he  said  in  a  solemn  tone.  "I 
have  the  honor  to  preside  at  a  ceremony  the  importance  of 
which  you  already  understand.  A  school  is  beiug  founded. 
The  school  is  the  base  of  society.  The  school  is  the  book 
in  which  is  written  the  future  of  the  people.     Show  me 


96  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

the  schools  of  a  people  and  I  will  tell  you  what  those 
people  are. 

"Citizens  of  San  Diego!  Thank  God  that  he  has 
given  you  virtuous  priests;  and  the  Mother  Country  that 
she  untiringly  diffuses  her  civilization  over  these  fertile 
islands,  protected  by  her  glorious  flag.  Thank  God  that 
she  has  had  pity  for  you,  bringing  you  these  humble  priests 
that  they  may  enlighten  you  and  teach  you  the  divine 
word.  Thank  the  Government  for  the  great  sacrifices 
it  has  made,  makes  now  and  will  make  in  the  future  for 
you  and  your  sons. 

"And  now  that  the  first  stone  of  this  great  edifice  has 
been  blessed,  I,  Alcalde  Mayor  of  this  province,  in  the 
name  of  His  Majesty,  the  King,  whom  God  guard.  King 
of  the  Spains,  in  the  name  of  the  illustrious  Spanish 
Government,  and  under  its  spotless  and  ever  victorious 
banner,  I  consecrate  this  act  and  begin  the  building  of  this 
school. 

"Citizens  of  San  Diego!  Long  live  the  King!  Long 
live  Spain!  Long  live  the  Church!  Long  live  the 
priests !    Long  live  the  Catholic  religion !" 

^'Yiva!  VivaT  replied  the  others.  "Long  live  the 
'Alcalde  r 

The  Alcalde  majestically  descended  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  the  music  which  had  begun  to  play.  He  placed 
some  trowels  of  mortar  on  the  stone  and  mth  equal 
majesty  ascended  the  stairs. 

The  Government  employees  applauded. 

Ibarra  offered  another  silver  trowel  to  the  curate,  who, 
after  fixing  his  eyes  on  him  for  a  moment,  descended 
slowly  to  the  bottom  of  the  excavation.  When  about  half 
way  down  the  stairs,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  look  at  the 
stone  which  hung  suspended  in  the  air  by  the  powerful 
cables,  but  he  only  looked  at  it  for  a  second  and  then  de- 
scended. He  did  the  same  as  the  Alcalde  had  done,  but 
this  time  more  applause  was  heard,  for  the  Government 
employees  were  assisted  by  the  other  friars  and  Captain 
Tiago. 

Father  Salvi  seemed  to  be  searching  for  some  one  to 
whom  to  hand  the  trowel.  He  looked  with  hesitation 
toward  Maria  Clara,  but,  changing  his  mind,  he  offered 


The  Hoisting  Crane.  97 

it  to  tHe  Notary.  The  latter,  for  the  sake  of  gallantry, 
approached  Maria  Clara,  who  declined  it  with  a  smile. 
The  friars,  the  Government  employees  and  the  alferez, 
one  after  another  went  down  and  repeated  the  ceremony. 
Captain  Tiago  was  not  forgotten. 

Ibarra  had  been  omitted.  He  was  abont  to  order  the 
yellow  man  to  lower  the  other  stone,  when  the  curate 
remembered  him.  In  a  pleasant  tone  and,  with  an  affec- 
tation of  familiarity,  he  said  to  him.  "Aren't  you  going 
to  put  on  your  trowelful,  Senor  Ibarra?" 

"I  would  be  like  the  fellow  who  made  the  stew  and  then 
ate  it,"  replied  the  young  man  in  the  same  tone. 

"0,  go  on !"  said  the  Alcalde,  giving  him  a  gentle  push. 
"If  you  don't,  I  will  order  them  not  to  lower  the  stone  and 
then  we  will  have  to  wait  here  till  Judgment  Day." 

So  terrible  a  threat  forced  Ibarra  to  obey.  He  ex- 
changed the  small  silver  trowel  for  a  larger  iron  one, 
which  made  some  of  the  people  smile.  He  advanced 
quietly  and  descended  the  stairs.  Elias  looked  at  him 
with  an  indescribable  expression.  If  you  had  seen  him, 
you  would  have  thought  that  all  his  life  was  concentrated 
in  his  eyes.  The  yellow  man  looked  down  into  the  abyss 
opening  at  his  feet. 

Ibarra,  after  glancing  at  the  stone  which  hung  over 
his  head,  and  then  at  Elias  and  the  yellow  man,  said  to 
S'or  Juan  in  a  trembling  voice:  "Give  me  the  bucket 
of  mortar  and  find  another  trowel  for  me  above." 

The  young  man  stood  alone.  Elias  was  no  longer  look- 
ing at  him;  his  eyes  instead  were  riveted  on  the  yellow 
man's  hand,  while  the  latter  leaned  over  the  ditch  and 
followed  with  anxiety  the  movements  of  Ibarra. 

The  noise  of  the  trowel  removing  a  mass  of  sand  and 
lime  was  heard,  accompanied  by  the  low  murmur  of  the 
employees  who  were  congratulating  the  Alcalde  on  his 
address. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  frightful  creaking.  -The  pulley 
which  was  tied  to  the  base  of  the  crane  jumped  and  then 
the  windlass  struck  the  apparatus  like  a  battering-ram. 
The  timbers  swayed,  ropes  flew  into  the  air  and,  in  a 
second,  all  came  down  with  a  terrible  crash.  A  cloud  of 
dust  was  raised,  and  a  thousand    cries    filled    the    air. 


98  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Nearly  all  fled;  a  few  hurried  to  the  ditch.  Only  Maria 
Clara  and  Father  Salvi  remained  in  their  places  without 
moving,  both  pale  and  silent. 

When  the  cloud  of  dust  had  partially  cleared  away, 
Ibarra  could  be  seen  standing  among  a  mass  of  beams, 
bamboos,  and  cables,  between  the  windlass  and  the  massive 
stone,  which  in  its  descent  had  shaken  and  crushed  every- 
thing. The  young  man  was  still  holding  the  trowel  in  his 
hand,  his  eyes  staring  with  fright  at  the  dead  body  of  a 
man  which  was  lying  at  his  feet,  half  buried  under  the 
timbers. 

"Are  you  hurt? — Are  you  still  alive?  For  God's  sake 
speak!''  said  some  of  the  employees,  full  of  terror. 

"Miracle!   a   miracle!"   cried   some. 

"Come  and  remove  the  body  of  this  unfortunate  man," 
said  Ibarra,  as  if  awakening  from  a  dream. 

On  hearing  his  voice,  Maria  Clara  felt  her  strength 
giving  way  and  she  fell,  half  fainting,  into  the  arms  of 
her  friends. 

Great  confusion  reigned.  Everybody  was  talking,  ges- 
ticulating, and  running  from  one  side  to  the  other,  up 
and  down  the  stairs,  all  stupefied  and  full  of  consterna- 
tion. 

"Who  is  the  dead  man?  Is  he  still  alive?"  asked  the 
alferez. 

The  body  was  identified  as  the  yellow  workman  who  had 
been  standing  beside  the  windlass. 

"Let  proceedings  be  brought  against  the  superintend- 
ent of  the  work,"  was  the  first  thing  that  the  Alcalde  said. 

They  examined  the  body,  felt  of  the  heart,  but  it  was 
no  longer  beating.  The  blow  had  fallen  on  the  head  and 
blood  was  oozing  from  the  nose,  ears  and  mouth.  Some 
strange  marks  were  seen  on  the  man's  neck.  There  were 
four  deep  dents  on  one  side  and  a  single  but  deeper  one 
on  the  other.  It  looked  as  though  an  iron  hand  had 
grasped  it  like  a  pair  of  pinchers. 

The  priests  warmly  congratulated  the  young  man  and 
shook  his  hand. 

'^hen  I  think  that  only  a  few  moments  ago  I  was 
standing  there,"  said  one  of  the  employees.  "Say!  If 
I  had  been  the  last !    JesusT 


The  Hoisting  Cran9.  99 

''It  makes  my  hair  stand  on  end,"  said  another,  who 
was  bald. 

Ibarra  had  departed,  to  ascertain  the  condition  of 
Maria  Clara. 

"Let  this  not  prevent  the  festival  from  continuing,"  said 
the  Alcalde.  "God  be  praised !  The  dead  man  is  neither 
a  priest  nor  a  Spaniard !  Your  escape  must  be  celebrated ! 
Just  think — if  the  stone  had  fallen  on  you!" 

"There  is  such  a  thing  as  a  presentiment!"  said  the 
Notary.  "I  said  so.  Senor  Ibarra  was  reluctant  to  de- 
scend.    I  saw  it !" 

"Let  the  festival  go  on !  Give  us  some  music !  Weep- 
ing will  not  bring  the  dead  man  to  life.  Captain,  serve 
warrants  right  here !  Let  the  clerk  of  the  tribunal  come. 
Arrest  the  superintendent  of  the  work!" 

"Put  him  in  the  stocks !" 

"Put  him  in  the  stocks!  Eh?  Some  music,  music! 
Put  the  maestrillo  in  the  stocks." 

"Senor  Alcalde,"  replied  Ibarra  gravely,  "if  weeping 
cannot  bring  the  dead  man  back  to  life,  neither  can  any- 
thing be  gained  by  putting  a  man  in  prison  when  we  do 
not  know  that  he  is  culpable.  I  will  give  bail  for  him 
and  ask  that  he  be  given  liberty  for  some  days  at  least." 

"Well,  well!  But  such  a  misfortune  must  not  be  re- 
peated!" 

All  kinds  of  comments  were  circulating  among  the 
people.  The  theory  that  it  was  a  miracle  was  already 
accepted.  Father  Salvi,  however,  seemed  to  rejoice  very 
little  over  the  miracle,  which  the  people  attributed  to  a 
saint  of'  his  order  and  of  his  parish. 

There  were  some  who  claimed  to  have  seen,  as  the  crane 
was  falling,  a  figure  dressed  in  black  like  the  Franciscans, 
go  down  in  the  ditch.  It  was  without  doubt  San  Diego 
himself.  It  was  supposed,  too,  that  Ibarra  had  heard 
mass  and  that  the  yellow  man  had  not.  It  was  all  as 
clear  as  the  light  of  the  sun. 

Ibarra  went  home  to  change  his  clothes. 

"Hm!  Bad  beginning,"  said  Old  Tasio  as  he  left  the 
place. 

Ibarra  had  just  finished  dressing  when  a  servant  an- 
nounced that  a  countryman  was  asking  for  him.     Sup- 


100  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

posing  that  it  was  one  of  his  laborers,  tHe  yonng  man  or- 
dered that  they  show  him  into  his  study,  which  also  served 
as  a  library  and  a  chemical  laboratory.  But,  to  his  grea^ 
surprise,  he  met  the  muscular  figure  of  the  mysterious 
Elias. 

"You  recently  saved  my  life,"  said  he  in  Tagalo,  at  once 
comprehending  Ibarra's  movement.  "I  have  paid  you  only 
half  of  the  debt,  and  you  are  not  indebted  to  me;  rather 
the  contrary.    I  have  come  to  ask  a  favor  of  you.  ..." 

"Speak  out!"  replied  the  young  man,  in  the  same  lan- 
guage and  somewhat  surprised  at  the  gravity  of  the 
peasant. 

For  some  seconds,  Elias  looked  fixedly  into  Ibarra's  eyes 
and  then  replied:  "If  human  justice  should  ever  wish  to 
clear  up  this  mystery,  I  beg  of  you  not  to  speak  to  any  one 
about  the  warning  that  I  gave  you -in  the  church." 

"Don't  be  troubled  about  that,"  replied  the  young  man 
with  a  certain  note  of  displeasure  in  his  voice.  "I  know 
that  they  are  hunting  you,  but  I  am  no  informer." 

"Oh,  it  is  not  for  my  sake,  it  is  not  for  me !"  exclaimed 
Elias,  not  without  some  pride.  "It  is  for  your  sake.  I  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  men." 

Ibarra's  surprise  increased.  The  tone  in  which  the 
countryman  was  speaking  was  new  to  him  and  did  not  seem 
to  be  in  accord  either  with  his  state  or  his  fortune. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Ibarra,  interrogating  the 
mysterious  man  with  his  look. 

"I  do  not  speak  in  enigmas;  I  try  to  express  myself 
clearly.  For  your  greater  security,  it  is  necessary  that 
your  enemies  think  you  unsuspecting  and  off  your  guard." 

Ibarra  stepped  back. 

"My  enemies  ?    Have  I  enemies  ?" 

"All  of  us  have,  sir,  all  from  the  lowest  insect  to  man, 
from  the  poorest  to  the  richest  and  most  powerful.  En- 
mity is  the  law  of  life.  You  have  enemies  in  the  highest 
and  in  the  lowest  ranks.  You  are  planning  a  great  under- 
taking; you  have  a  past;  your  father,  your  grandfather 
liad  enemies  because  they  had  passion.  In  life  it  is  not 
criminals  who  provoke  the  most  hatred,  but  rather  hon- 
orable men." 

"Do  you  know  my  enemies  ?" 


The  Hoisting  Crane.  101 

Elias  did  not  reply  at  once,  but  meditated. 

"I  knew  one,  the  one  who  has  died,''  he  replied.  "Last 
night  I  discovered  that  something  was  being  plotted 
against  you,  through  some  words  that  were  exchanged  be- 
tween him  and  an  unknown  man  who  lost  himself  in  the 
crowd.  'The  fish  will  not  eat  this  one  as  they  did  his  father ; 
you  will  see  to-morrow,'  said  he.  These  words  attracted 
my  attention,  not  only  on  account  of  their  meaning  but  be- 
cause they  were  spoken  by  this  man,  who  only  a  few  days 
ago  had  presented  himself  to  the  superintendent  of  the 
work  with  the  express  desire  that  he  be  given  charge  of 
the  work  of  placing  the  corner  stone.  He  did  not  ask  for 
a  large  wage,  but  made  a  great  show  of  his  knowledge.  I 
had  no  sufficient  reasons  to  attribute  evil  designs  to  him, 
but  something  told  me  that  my  suspicions  were  right.  For 
this  reason,  in  or(ier  to  warn  you,  I  chose  a  moment  and  an 
occasion  when  you  could  not  ask  me  any  questions.  You 
already  know  tl^  rest." 

Elias  was  then  silent  for  some  moments ;  yet  Ibarra  did 
not  reply  nor  utter  a  word.    He  was  meditating. 

"I  am  sorry  that  the  man  is  dead,"  he  replied  at  last. 
''We  might  have  been  able  to  learn  something  more  about 
it  from  him." 

"If  he  had  lived  he  would  have  escaped  from  the 
trembling  hand  of  blind,  human  justice.  God  has  now 
judged  Mm!  God  has  killed  him!  Let  God  be  the  only 
judge!" 

Crisostomo  looked  a  moment  at  the  man  who  was 
speaking  to  him  in  this  manner.  He  noticed  that  his  mus- 
cular arms  were  covered  with  bruises  and  black  and  blue 
spots. 

"Do  you  also  believe  in  the  miracle  version  of  the  af- 
fair?" he  said,  smiling — "this  miracle  of  which  the  people 
speak?" 

"If  I  believed  in  miracles,  I  would  not  believe  in  God. 
I  would  believe  in  a  deified  man.  In  fact,  I  would  believe 
that  man  had  created  God  after  his  image  and  likeness," 
he  replied  solemnly.  "But  I  believe  in  Him.  More  than 
once  I  have  felt  His  hand.  When  all  was  falling  headlong, 
threatening  destruction  for  everything  which  was  in  the 


102  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

place,  I  held  the  criminal.  I  put  myself  by  his  side.  He 
was  struck  and  I  am  safe  and  sound.'^ 

'TTou?    So  that  you  .  .  .   ?" 

"Yes!  I  held  him  when  he  wanted  to  escape,  once  he 
had  begun  his  fatal  work.  I  saw  his  crime.  I  say :  'Let 
God  be  the  only  judge  among  men.  Let  Him  be  the  only 
one  who  has  the  right  to  take  away  life.  Let  man  never 
think  of  substituting  himself  for  him!" 

"And,  still  you  this  time " 

"No!"  interrupted  Elias,  foreseeing  the  objection  that 
he  was  going  to  raise.  "It  is  not  the  same  thing.  When 
a  man  as  judge  condemns  another  to  death  or  destroys  his 
future  forever,  he  does  it  with  impunity  and  makes  use 
of  the  force  of  other  men  to  carry  out  his  sentence.  Yet, 
after  all,  the  sentence  may  be  wrong  and  unjust.  But  I, 
in  exposing  the  criminal  to  the  same  danger  which  he  had 
prepared  for  others,  ran  the  same  risks.  I  did  not  kill 
him.    I  allowed  the  hand  of  God  to  kill  him." 

"Do  you  not  believe  in  chance  ?" 

"To  believe  in  chance  is  like  believing  in  miracles.  Both 
theories  suppose  that  God  does  not  know  the  future.  What 
is  a  casualty?  A  happening  which  absolutely  nobody 
knows  beforehand.  What  is  a  miracle?  A  contradiction, 
a  contortion  of  the  laws  of  nature.  Lack  of  foresight  and 
contradiction  in  the  All  Knowing,  who  directs  the  ma- 
chinery of  the  world,  are  two  great  imperfections." 

"Who  are  you?"  Ibarra  asked  again,  with  a  certain 
dread.    "Have  you  studied  ?" 

"I  have  had  to  believe  in  God  a  great  deal  because  I 
have  lost  my  faith  in  men,"  replied  the  pilot,  evading  the 
question. 

Ibarra  thought  that  he  understood  this  man ;  young  and 
proscribed,  he  disregarded  human  justice ;  denied  the  right 
of  man  to  judge  his  equals,  he  protested  against  power  and 
superiority  of  certain  classes  of  men  over  others. 

"But  you  must  admit  the  necessity  of  human  justice, 
however  imperfect  it  may  be,"  he  replied.  "God,  al- 
though he  has  ministers  on  the  earth,  cannot,  that  is  to 
say,  cannot  clearly  give  his  judgment  upon  the  millions 
of  contentions  which  are  stirred  up  by  our  passions.    It 


The  Hoisting  Crane.  103 

is  necessary,  it  is  just,  that  a  man  should  sometimes  judge 
his  fellows/' 

"For  good,  yes;  for  bad,  no.  To  correct  and  improve, 
yes;  but  not  to  destroy,  for  if  he  fails  in  his  judgment, 
there  is  no  power  that  can  remedy  the  evil  that  has  been 
done.  But,"  he  added,  changing  his  tone,  "this  discus- 
sion is  beyond  and  above  me,  and  I  am  keeping  you  from 
those  who  are  now  awaiting  you.  But  do  not  forget  what 
I  have  just  said :  You  have  enemies.  Take  care  of  your- 
self for  the  good  of  your  country  I" 


104  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

THE    BANQUET. 

There,  vmder  the  shade  of  the  decorated  pavilion,  the 
great  men  of  the  province  were  banqueting.  The  Al- 
calde occupied  one  end  of  the  table;  Ibarra,  the  othef. 
On  the  young  man's  right  sat  Maria  Clara,  and  on  his  left, 
the  Notary.  Captain  Tiago,  the  alferez,  the  gohernador- 
cillo,  the  friars,  the  employees,  and  the  few  senoritas  who 
were  present  were  seated,  not  according  to  rank  but  ac- 
cording to  their  own  fancy. 

The  banquet  was  very  animated,  but,  before  it  was  half 
over,  a  messenger  with  a  telegram  came  in  search  of  Cap- 
tain Tiago.  The  Captain  asked  permission  to  read  the 
message,  and  naturally  all  begged  of  him  to  do  so. 

The  worthy  Captain  at  first  knit  his  eyebrows ;  and  then 
raised  them.  His  face  became  pale,  and  then  brightened 
up.     Doubling  up  the  sheet  of  paper  hurriedly,  he  arose. 

'^Gentlemen,"  said  he,  confused,  "His  Excellency,  the 
Governor  General,  is  coming  this  afternoon  to  honor  my 
house." 

And  then  he  started  on  a  run,  taking  with  him  the  tele- 
gram and  the  napkin,  but  not  his  hat.  All  sorts  of  ques- 
tions and  exclamations  were  shouted  after  him.  The  an- 
nouncement of  the  coming  of  the  tulisanes  could  not  have 
had  a  greater  effect.  "But  listen!  When  does  he  come? 
Tell  us  about  it!  His  Excellency !''  But  Captain  Tiago 
was  already  far  away. 

"His  Excellency  is  coming  and  will  be  a  guest  at  Cap- 
tain Tiago's  house!"  exclaimed  some  one,  without  con- 
sidering that  the  Captain's  daughter  and  future  son-in- 
law  were  present. 

"The  choice  could  not  have  been  a  better  one,"  replied 
another. 

The  friars  looked  at  each    other.      Their   expjressions 


The  Banquet.  105 

seemed  to  say :  "The  Governor  General  is  committing  an- 
other of  his  errors,  offending  us  in  this  way.  He  ought 
to  be  the  guest  of  the  convent."  But  despite  the  fact  that 
they  thought  this,  they  all  kept  silent  and  no  one  of  them 
exptessed  his  opinion. 

"Even  yesterday  he  was  speaking  to  me  about  it,"  said 
the  Alcalde,  "but,  at  that  time,  His  Excellency  was  not 
decided." 

"Do  you  know.  Your  Excellency,  Senor  Alcalde,  how 
long  the  Governor  General  intends  to  remain  here  ?"  asked 
the  alferez,  a  little  uneasy. 

"No,  not  positively.    His  Excellency  likes  surprises." 

"Here  come  some  other  telegrams !" 

The  messages  were  for  the  Alcalde,  the  alferez,  and 
the  gohernadorcillo,  and  announced  the  same  thing  to  each 
of  them.  The  friars  noticed  that  none  came  addressed  to 
the  curate. 

"His  Excellency  will  arrive  at  four  o'clock  this  af- 
ternoon, gentlemen,"  said  the  Alcalde  solemnly.  "We  can 
finish  at  our  leisure." 

Leonidas,  in  the  pass  of  Thermopylae,  could  not  have  said 
with  better  grace  "To-night  we  will  dine  with  Pluto." 

"I  notice  the  absence  of  our  great  preacher,"  said  one 
of  the  government  employees  timidly.  The  speaker  had 
an  inoffensive  look  and  before  this  had  not  opened  his 
mouth,  except  to  eat,  during  the  entire  morning. 

All  who  knew  the  life  of  Crisostomo's  father  twitched 
their  eyes  significantly  and  seemed  to  say  by  their  move- 
ments: "Go  on!  It's  a  bad  beginning  that  you  have 
made!"  But  others,  more  benevolently  disposed,  replied: 
"He  must  be  somewhat  fatigued." 

"What?  Somewhat  fatigued!"  exclaimed  the  alferez. 
"Why,  he  must  be  exhausted.  What  did  you  think  of  the 
sermon  this  morning?" 

"Superb,  gigantic!"  said  the  Notary. 

"To  be  able  to  speak  like  Father  Damaso,  a  man  needs 
lungs,"  observed  Father  Manuel  Martin. 

The  Augustine  did  not  concede  more  than  lung  power. 

"And  such  easiness  of  expression,"  added  Father  Salvl. 

"Do  you  know  that  Senor  Ibarra  has  the  best  cook  in  the 


106  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

province/'  remarked  the  'Alcalde,  cutting  off  the  conver- 
sation. 

"So  they  say/'  replied  one  of  the  Government  em- 
ployees, "but  his  fair  neighbor  does  not  wish  to  do  honor 
to  his  table,  for  she  scarcely  takes  a  mouthful." 

Maria  Clara  blushed. 

"I  thank  you,  Senor You  occupy  yourself  too 

much  about  me.  .  but.  .  .  "  she  said  timidly. 

"But  your  presence  honors  him  sufficiently,"  concluded 
the  gallant  Alcalde.  Then  turning  to  Father  Salvi: 
"Father  Curate,  I  notice  that  you  have  been  silent  and  pen- 
sive all  day  long." 

"It  is  my  nature,"  muttered  the  Franciscan.  "I  would 
rather  listen  than  talk." 

"Your  Eeverence  seeks  always  to  gain  and  never  to 
lose,"  replied  the  alferez,  in  a  joking  manner. 

But  Father  Salvi  did  not  take  it  as  a  joke.  His  eyea 
flashed  a  moment  and  he  replied:  "You  know  very  well, 
Senor  Alferez,  that,  during  these  days,  I  am  not  the  one 
who  gains  most!" 

The  alferez  overlooked  the  fling  with  a  false  laugh  and 
pretended  not  to  hear  it. 

"But,  gentlemen,  I  do  not  understand  how  you  can  be 
talking  about  gains  and  losses,"  intervened  the  Alcalde. 
"What  will  these  amiable  and  discreet  young  women,  who 
honor  us  with  their  presence,  think  of  us  ?  To  my  mind, 
the  young  women  are  like  ^olian  harps  in  the  night.  It  is 
only  necessary  to  lend  an  attentive  ear  to  hear  them,  for 
their  unspeakable  harmonies  elevate  the  soul  to  the  celes- 
tial spheres  of  the  infinite  and  of  the  ideal " 

"Your  Excellency  is  a  poet,"  said  the  Notary  gayly ;  and 
both  drained  their  wine  glasses. 

"I  cannot  help  it/'  said  the  Alcalde,  wiping  his  lips. 
"The  occasion,  if  it  does  not  always  make  the  thief,  makes 
the  poet.  In  my  youth  I  composed  verses,  and  they  cer- 
tainly were  not  bad  ones." 

"So  Your  Excellency  has  been  unfaithful  to  the  Muses, 
deserting  them  for  Themis." 

"Psh!"  What  would  you  do?  It  has  always  been  my 
dream  to  run  through  the  whole  social  scale.  Yesterday 
J  was  gathering  flowers,  and  singing  songs;  to-day  I  hold 


The  Banquet.  107 

the  wand  of  Justice  and  serve  Humanity.    To-morrow.  .'* 

"To-morrow  Your  Excellency  will  throw  the  wand  into 
the  fire  to  warm  yourself  with  it  in  the  winter  of  life,  and 
will  then  take  a  portfolio  in  the  Ministry,"  added  Father 
Sibyla. 

"Psh!  Yes.  .  .  no.  .  .  To  be  a  Minister  is  not  pre- 
cisely my  ideal.  The  unexpected  always  happens, 
though.  A  little  villa  in  the  north  of  Spain  to  pass  the 
summer  in,  a  mansion  in  Madrid,  and  some  possessions 
in  Andalusia  for  the  winter.  .  .  We  will  live  remember- 
ing our  dear  Philippines.  .  .  Of  me  Voltaire  will  not 
say:  'Nous  n'avons  jamais  ete  chez  ces  peuples  que  pour 
nous  y  enrichir  et  pour  les  calomnier.* " . 

The  Government  employees  thought  that  His  Excellency 
intended  a  joke  and  they  began  to  laugh  to  make  a  show 
of  appreciating  it.  The  friars  imitated  them  since  they 
did  not  know  that  Voltaire  was  the  Volta-i-re  whom  they 
had  so  often  cursed  and  condemned  to  Hades.  Father 
Sibyla,  however,  recognized  the  name  and  assumed  a  se- 
rious air,  supposing  that  the  Alcalde  had  uttered  some 
heresy. 

Father  Damaso  was  waddling  down  the  road.  He  was 
half  smiling,  but  in  such  a  malignant  manner,  that  on  see- 
ing him,  Ibarra,  who  was  in  the  act  of  speaking,  lost  the 
thread  of  his  remarks.  All  were  surprised  to  see  Father 
Damaso,  but,  excepting  Ibarra,  they  greeted  him  with  marks 
of  pleasure.  They  had  already  reached  the  last  course  of 
the  dinner,  and  the  champagne  was  foaming  in  the  glasses. 

Father  Damaso  showed  a  little  nervousness  in  his  smile 
when  he  saw  Maria  Clara  seated  on  the  right  of  Crisostomo. 
But,  taking  a  chair  by  the  side  of  the  Alcalde,  he  asked  in 
the  midst  of  a  significant  silence :  "Were  you  not  talking 
about  something,  senores?    Continue!" 

"We  were  drinking  a  toast,"  replied  the  Alcalde.  "Senor 
Ibarra  was  mentioning  those  who  had  aided  him  in  his 
philanthropic  enterprise  and  was  speaking  of  the  architect 
when  Your  Eeverence    .     .     ." 

"Well,  I  don't  understand  architecture,"  interrupted 
Father  Damaso,  ^Taut  architects  and  the  dunces  who  go  to 
them  make  me  laugh !  You  have  an  example  right  here.  I 
drew  the  plan  for  a  church  and  it  has  been  constructed 


108  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

perfectly:  so  an  English  jeweler  who  was  one  day  a  guest 
at  the  convent  told  me.  To  draught  a  plan,  one  need  have 
but  a  small  degree  of  intelligence." 

"However,"  replied  the  Alcalde,  seeing  that  Ibarra  was 
silent,  "when  we  are  dealing  with  certain  edifices,  for  ex- 
ample a  school,  we  need  a  skilled  man  (perito).'' 

"He  who  needs  a  perito  is  a  perrito  (little  dog)  !"  ex- 
claimed Father  Damaso,  with  a  scoff.  "One  would  have  to 
be  more  of  a  brute  than  the  natives,  who  erect  their  own 
houses,  if  he  did  not  know  how  to  build  four  walls  and  put 
a  covering  over  them.    That's  all  that  a  school  house  is." 

All  looked  toward  Ibarra.  But  the  young  man,  even  if 
he  did  look  pale,  kept  on  conversing  with  Maria  Clara. 

"But  Your  Reverence  should  consider.  .  .  ." 

"Just  look  you,"  continued  the  Franciscan  without  al- 
lowing the  Alcalde  to  speak.  "See  how  one  of  our  lay  broth- 
ers, the  most  stupid  one  we  have,  has  built  a  good  hospital, 
handsome  and  cheap.  It  is  well  built  and  he  did  not  pay 
more  than  eight  cuartos  a  day  to  those  whom  he  employed 
even  those  who  came  from  other  towns.  That  fellow  knows 
how  to  treat  them.  He  does  not  do  like  many  fools  and 
mesticillos*  who  spoil  them  by  paying  them  three  or  four 
reales." 

"Does  Your  Reverence  say  that  he  only  paid  eight 
cuartos 2  Impossible!"  said  the  Alcalde,  trying  to  change 
the  course  of  the  conversation. 

"Yes,  Senor;  and  those  who  brag  of  being  good  Span- 
iards ought  to  imitate  him.  You  can  see  very  well  now, 
since  the  Suez  Canal  was  opened,  corruption  has  come 
here.  Before,  when  we  had  to  double  the  Cape,  there  were 
not  so  many  worthless  people  coming  out  here,  nor  did 
Filipinos  go  abroad  to  be  corrupted  and  spoiled." 

"But,  Father  Damaso !" 

"You  know  very  well  what  the  native  is.  As  quickly  as 
he  learns  anything,  he  goes  and  becomes  a  doctor.  All 
these  ignoramuses  who  go  to  Europe  .  .  ." 

"But  listen.  Your  Reverence.  .  .  "  interrupted  the 
Alcalde,  becoming  uneasy  at  such  harsh  words. 

"They  are  all  going  to  end  as  they  merit/'  he  con- 

*  Little  mestizos  or  half  breeds.    Used  in  contempt. 


The  Banquet.  109 

tinued.  "The  hand  of  God  is  upon  them  and  one  must 
be  blind  not  to  see  it.  Even  in  this  life,  the  fathers  of 
such  vipers  receive  their  punishment.  .  .  They  die  in 
prison,  eh?'' 

But  he  did  not  finish  his  remarks.  Ibarra,  his  face 
flushing,  had  been  following  him  with  his  eyes.  On  hear- 
ing the  allusion  to  his  father,  he  rose  and,  with  a  single 
bound,  brought  down  his  strong  hand  on  the  head  of  the 
priest.  Stunned  with  the  blow,  the  friar  fell  on  his 
back. 

Full  of  astonishment  and  terror,  no  one  dared  to  in- 
tervene. 

"Keep  back!"  cried  the  young  man,  with  a  menacing 
voice,  and  brandishing  a  sharp  knife  in  his  hand.  In  the 
meantime,  he  held  the  friar  down  with  his  foot  on  his 
neck.  The  latter  was  recovering  consciousness.  "Let  no 
one  approach  who  does  not  want  to  die!" 

Ibarra  was  beside  himself.  His  body  trembled,  and  his 
threatening  eyes  almost  burst  from  their  sockets.  Friar 
Damaso  struggled  and  raised  himself,  but  the  young  man, 
seizing  him  by  the  collar,  shook  him  till  he  fell  on  his 
knees  and  collapsed. 

"Senor  Ibarra!     Senor  Ibarra!"  cried  some. 

But  nobody,  not  even  the  alferez,  dared  to  approach 
the  glistening  blade,  considering  the  strength  of  the  young 
man  and  the  state  of  his  mind.    All  were  paralyzed. 

"All  of  you  people  here  have  said  nothing!  Now  the 
matter  concerns  me !  I  have  avoided  him.  God  now 
brings  him  to  me.     Let  God  judge!" 

The  young  man  was  breathing  hard.  With  iron  hand 
he  held  the  Franciscan  down,  and  the  latter  struggled  in 
vain  to  break  loose. 

"My  heart  beats  tranquilly.     My  hand  is  sure." 

He  looked  about  him  and  continued:  "Is  there  among 
you  any  one  who  does  not  love  his  father;  any  one  who 
hates  his  memory,  any  one  who  was  born  in  disgrace  and 
humiliation  ?  See  !  Do  you  observe  this  silence  ?  Priest 
of  a  peaceful  God,  with  your  mouth  full  of  sanctity  and  re- 
ligion, and  a  miserable  heart,  you  could  not  have  known 
what  a  father  is.    You  should  have  thought  of  your  own ! 


110  Friars  and  Filipinos.) 

Do  you  see?    Among  tliis  crowd  which  you  scorn,  there 
is  none  such  as  you !     You  are  judged !" 

The  people  around  him  made  a  stir,  believing  that  he 
was  going  to  strike. 

"Back  V  he  again  cried  in  a  threatening  voice.  "What  ? 
Do  you  fear  that  I  would  soil  my  hand  with  his  impure 
blood?  Have  I  not  told  you  that  my  heart  beats  tran- 
quilly? Back  from  us,  all!  Listen,  priests,  judges,  you 
who  think  yourselves  different  from  other  men,  and  who 
claim  other  rights  for  yourselves!  Listen!  My  father 
was  an  honorable  man.  Ask  these  people  who  venerate 
his  memory.  My  father  was  a  good  citizen.  He  sacri- 
ficed himself  for  me  and  for  the  good  of  his  country !  His 
house  was  open.  His  table  was  ready  for  the  stranger  or 
the  exile  who  came  to  it  in  his  misery.  He  was  a  good 
Christian;  he  always  did  what  was  right.  He  never  op- 
pressed the  helpless,  nor  brought  sorrow  to  the  miserable 
and  wretched.  To  this  man,  he  opened  the  door  of  his 
house.  He  had  him  sit  at  his  table  and  he  called  him  his 
friend.  What  has  ha  done  in  return?  He  has  calum- 
niated him,  persecuted  him,  has  armed  ignorance  against 
him,  violating  the  sanctity  of  his  office,  has  thrown  him 
out  of  his  tomb,  dishonored  his  memory,  and  persecuted 
him  even  in  death's  repose.  And  not  content  with  that, 
he  now  persecutes  his  son.  I  have  fled  from  him,  I  have 
avoided  his  presence.  You  heard  him  this  morning  pro- 
fane the  pulpit;  you  saw  him  point  me  out  to  the  popu- 
lar fanaticism;  I  said  nothing.  Now  he  comes  here  in 
search  of  a  quarrel.  To  your  surprise,  I  suffered  in  si- 
lence; but  he  again  insults  the  sacred  memory  of  my 
father,  that  memory  which  every  son  holds  dear.  .  .  You 
who  are  here,  you  priests,  you  judges,  have  you  seen  your 
father  watching  over  you  night  and  day  and  working  for 
you  ?  Have  you  seen  him  deprive  himself  of  you  for  your 
good?  Have  you  seen  your  father  die  in  prison,  heart 
broken,  sighing  for  some  one  to  caress  him,  searching 
for  some  being  to  console  him,  alone  in  sickness,  while 
you  were  in  a  foreign  land?  Have  you  heard  his  name 
dishonored  afterward?  Have  you  found  his  tomb  vacant 
when  you  wished  to  pray  upon  it?  No?  You  are  si- 
lent.   Then  by  that  silence  you  condemn  him !" 


The  Banquet.  Ill 

He  raised  his  arm;  but  a  young  maiden,  quick  as  a 
flash,  put  herself  between  them  and  with  her  delicate 
hands  stopped  the  arm  of  the  avenger.  It  was  Maria 
Clara. 

Ibarra  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  that  seemed  to 
reflect  madness.  Gradually,  he  loosened  the  vise-like 
fingers  of  his  hand,  allowed  the  body  of  the  Franciscan  to 
fall,  and  dropped  his  knife  upon  the  ground.  Covering 
Ills  face,  he  fled  through  the  crowd. 


112  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

THE  FIRST  CLOUD. 

The  house  of  Captain  Tiago  was  no  less  disturbed  than 
the  imagination  of  the  people.  Maria  Clara,  refusing  to 
listen  to  the  consolation  of  her  aunt  and  foster  sister,  did 
nothing  but  weep.  Her  father  had  forbidden  her  to  speak 
to  Ibarra  until  the  priests  should  absolve  him  from  the 
excommunication  which  they  had  pronounced  upon  him. 

Captain  Tiago,  though  very  busy  preparing  his  house 
for  the  reception  of  the  Governor  General,  had  been  sum- 
moned to  the  convent. 

"Don't  cry,  my  girl,''  said  Aunt  Isabel  as  she  dusted 
off  the  mirrors.  "They  will  certainly  annul  the  excom- 
munication; they  will  write  the  Pope.  .  .  We  will  make  a 
large  donation.  .  .  Father  Damaso  had  nothing  more  than 
a  fainting  spell.  .  .  He  is  not  dead." 

"Don't  cry,"  said  Andeng  to  her,  in  a  low  voice.  "I 
will  certainly  arrange  it  so  that  you  can  speak  to  him. 
"What  are  the  confessionals  made  for,  if  we  are  not  ex- 
pected to  sin  ?  Everything  is  pardoned  when  one  has  told 
it  to  the  curate." 

Finally,  Captain  Tiago  arrived.  They  scanned  his  face 
for  an  answer  to  their  many  questions,  but  his  expression 
announced  too  plainly  his  dismay.  The  poor  man  was 
sweating,  and  passing  his  hand  over  his  forehead.  He 
seemed  unable  to  utter  a  word. 

"How  is  it,  Santiago?"  asked  Aunt  Isabel,  anxiously. 

He  answered  her  with  a  sigh  and  dried  away  a  tear. 

"For  God's  sake,  speak !     What  has  happened  ?" 

"What  I  had  already  feared !"  he  broke  out  finally  half 
crying.  "All  is  lost!  Father  Damaso  orders  that  the 
engagement  be  broken.  If  it  is  not  broken  off,  I  am  con- 
demned in  this  life  and  in  the  next.  They  all  tell  me  the 
same  thing,  even  Father  Sibyla!     I  ought  to    shut    the 


The  First  Cloud.  113 

doors  of  my  House  and.  .  .  I  owe  him  more  than  fifty- 
thousand  pesos.  I  told  the  Fathers  so,  but  they  would 
take  no  notice  of  it.  'Which  do  you  prefer  to  lose/  they 
said  to  me,  'fifty  thousand  pesos,  or  your  life  and  your 
soul  ?'  Alas !  Ay !  San  Antonio  I  If  I  had  known  it,  if  I 
had  known  it !" 

Maria  Clara  was  sobbing. 

"Do  not  cry,  my  daughter,"  he  added,  turning  to  her. 
•'You  are  not  like  your  mother.  She  never  cried.  .  .  she 
never  cried  except  when  she  was  whimsical  just  before 
your  birth.  .  .  Father  Damaso  tells  me  that  a  relative  of 
his  has  just  arrived  from  Spain.  .  .  and  that  he  wants 
him  to  be  your  fiance."  .  .  . 

Maria  Clara  stopped  up  her  ears. 

"But,  Santiago,  are  you  out  of  your  head?"  cried  Aunt 
Isabel.  "Speak  to  her  now  of  another  fiance!  Do  you 
think  that  your  daughter  can  change  lovers  as  easily  as 
she  changes  her  dress  ?" 

"I  was  thinking  the  same  thing,  Isabel.  Don  Crisos- 
tomo  is  rich.  .  .  The  Spaniards  only  marry  for  love  of 
money.  .  .  But  what  would  you  have  me  do?  They  have 
threatened  me  with  excommunication.  They  say  that  I 
am  in  great  peril :  not  only  my  soul,  but  also  my  body.  .  . 
my  body,  do  you  hear  ?     My  body !" 

"But  you  only  give  sorrow  to  your  daughter.  Are  you 
not  a  friend  of  the  Archbishop?  Why  don't  you  write 
him?" 

"The  Archbishop  is  also  a  friar.  The  Archbishop  does 
only  what  the  friars  say.  But,  Maria,  do  not  cry.  The 
Governor  General  will  come.  He  will  want  to  see  you  and 
your  eyes  are  all  inflamed.  .  .  Alas !  I  was  thinking  what 
a  happy  afternoon  I  was  going  to  pass.  .  .  Without  this 
misfortune,  I  would  be  the  happiest  of  men  and  all  would 
envy  me.  .  .  Calm  yourself,  my  girl.  I  am  more  un- 
fortunate than  you  and  I  do  not  cry.  You  can  have  an- 
other and  better  fiance,  but  I  lose  fifty  thousand  pesos. 
Ah!  Virgin  of  Antipole!  If  I  could  only  have  some  luck 
to-night !" 

Noises,  detonations,  the  rumbling  of  carriages,  the  gal- 
loping of  horses,  and  a  band  playing  the  Mar  dm  Real 
announced  the  arrival  of  His  Excellency,  the  Governor 


114  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

General  of  the  Philippine  Islands.  Maria  Clara  ran  to 
hide  in  her  bedroom.  .  .  Poor  girl!  Gross  hands  were 
playing  with  her  heart,  ignorant  of  the  delicacy  of  its 
fibers. 

In  the  meantime,  the  house  filled  with  people.  Loud 
steps,  commands,  and  the  clanking  of  sabers  and  swords 
resounded  on  all  sides.  The  afflicted  maiden  was  half 
kneeling  before  an  engraving  of  the  Virgin,  a  picture  rep- 
resenting her  in  that  attitude  of  painful  solitude,  known 
only  to  Delaroche,  as  if  she  had  been  surprised  on  return- 
ing from  the  sepulchre  of  her  Son.  But  Maria  Clara  was 
not  thinking  of  the  grief  of  that  Mother;  she  was  think- 
ing of  her  own.  With  her  head  resting  on  her  breast 
and  her  hands  on  the  floor,  she  looked  like  a  lily  bent  by 
the  storm.  A  future,  cherished  for  years  in  her  dreams; 
a  future  whose  illusions,  born  in  her  infancy  and  nursed 
through  her  youth,  gave  form  to  the  cells  of  her  being — 
that  future  was  now  to  be  blotted  from  the  mind  and 
heart  by  a  single  word! 

Maria  Clara  was  as  good  and  as  pious  a  Christian  as 
her  aunt.  The  thought  of  an  excommunication  terrified 
her.  The  threat  to  destroy  the  peace  of  her  father  de- 
manded that  she  sacrifice  her  love.  She  felt  the  entire 
strength  of  that  affection  which  until  now  she  had  not 
known.  It  was  like  a  river  which  glides  along  smoothly; 
its  banks  carpeted  with  fragrant  flowers,  its  bed  formed 
by  fine  sand,  the  wind  scarcely  rippling  its  surface,  so  quiet 
and  peaceful  that  you  would  say  that  its  waters  were  dead ; 
until  suddenly  its  channel  is  pent  up,  ragged  rocks  obstruct 
its  course,  and  the  entangled  trunks  of  trees  form  a  dike. 
Then  the  river  roars ;  it  rises  up ;  its  waves  boil ;  it  is  lashed 
into  foam,  beats  against  the  rocks  and  rushes  into  the  abyss. 

She  wanted  to  pray,  but  who  can  pray  without  hope? 
One  prays  when  there  is  hope.  When  there  is  none,  wo 
surrender  ourselves  to  God  and  wail.  ^^My  God  !^'  cried 
her  heart,  "why  shouldst  thou  separate  me  thus  from  him 
I  love?  Why  deny  me  the  love  of  others?  Thou  dost  not 
deny  me  the  sun,  nor  the  air,  nor  dost  thou  hide  the 
heavens  from  my  sight.  Why  dost  thou  deny  me  love, 
when  it  is  possible  to  live  without  sun,  without  air,  and 
without  the  heavens,  but  without  love,  never  ?" 


The  First  Cloud.  115 

''MotHer,  mother/^  she  was  moaning. 

'Aunt  Isabel  came  to  take  her  from  her  grief.  Some  of 
her  girl  friends  had  arrived  and  the  Governor  General 
also  desired  to  talk  with  her. 

"Aunt,  tell  them  that  I  am  ill !"  begged  the  frightened 
maiden.  "They  wish  to  make  me  play  the  piano  and 
sing.'' 

"Your  father  has  promised  it.  You  are  not  going  to  go 
back  on  your  father  ?'' 

Maria  Clara  arose,  looked  at  her  aunt,  clasped  her 
beautiful  arms  about  her  and  murmured:  "Oh,  if  I 
had  ..." 

But,  without  finishing  the  sentence,  she  dried  her  tears 
and  began  to  make  her  toilet. 


116  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HIS     EXCELLENCY. 

"I  WANT  to  speak  with  that  young  man/'  said  His  Ex- 
cellency to  an  adjutant.    "He  has  awakened  my  interest." 

"They  have  already  gone  to  look  for  him.  General !  But 
there  is  a  young  man  here  from  Manila  who  insists  on 
being  introduced.  We  have  told  him  that  Your  Excel- 
lency has  no  time  and  that  you  have  not  come  to  give 
audiences,  but  to  see  the  town  and  the  procession.  But 
he  has  replied  that  Your  Excellency  always  has  time  to 
dispense  justice." 

His  Excellency  turned  to  the  Alcalde  as  if  in  doubt. 

"If  I  am  not  mistaken/'  said  the  latter,  making  a  slight 
bow,  "it  is  a  young  man  who  this  morning  had  a  diffi- 
culty with  Father  Damaso  about  the  sermon." 

"Still  another?  Has  this  friar  undertaken  to  disturb 
the  province,  or  does  he  think  that  he  is  in  command  here  ? 
Tell  the  young  man  to  come  in !" 

His  Excellency  was  walking  nervously  from  one  end 
of  the  sala  to  the  other. 

In  the  lower  part  of  the  house,  in  the  ante-room,  were 
several  Spaniards,  mingled  vnth  army  officers  and  officials 
of  the  town  of  San  Diego  and  some  of  the  neighboring 
villages.  They  were  grouped  in  little  circles  and  were 
conversing  about  one  thing  and  another.  All  of  the  friars 
were  there  except  Father  Damaso,  and  they  wanted  to  go 
in  and  pay  their  respects  to  His  Excellency. 

"His  Excellency,  the  Governor  General,  begs  Your  Rev- 
erences to  wait  a  moment,"  said  the  adjutant.  "Walk 
in,  young  man !" 

The  young  man  from  Manila  entered  the  sala^  pale  and 
trembling. 

Everybody  was  surprised.  His  Excellency  must  be  ir- 
ritated to  dare  to  make  the  friars  wait.     Father  Sibyla 


His  Excellency.  117 

said:  "I  have  nothing  to  say  to  him.  .  .  I  am  losing 
time  here  \" 

"It's  the  same  with  me,"  said  an  Augustine.  "Shall 
we  go  ?" 

"Would  it  not  be  better  for  us  to  Jfind  out  what  he 
thinks?"  asked  Father  Salvi.  "We  would  avoid  a  scan- 
dal .  .  .  and  ...  we  would  be  able  to  call  to  his  mind 
his  duty  to  .  .  .  the  Church." 

"Your  Eeverences  can  walk  in,  if  you  wish,"  announced 
the  adjutant,  as  he  escorted  out  the  young  man,  whose 
face  was  now,  however,  glowing  with  satisfaction. 

Friar  Sibyla  entered  first.  Behind  him  came  Father 
Salvi,  Father  Manuel  Martin  and  the  other  priests.  They 
all  humbly  saluted  the  Governor  General,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Father  Sibyla,  who  preserve^  even  in  his  bow,  an 
air  of  superiority.  Father  Salvi,  on  the  contrary,  almost 
touched  the  floor  with  his  head. 

"Which  of  Your  Eeverences  is  Father  Damaso?"  asked 
His  Excellency  unexpectedly,  without  having  them  sit 
down,  or  even  asking  about  their  health,  and  without  ad- 
dressing them  with  any  of  those  courteous  phrases  which 
are  customary  with  such  high  personages. 

"Father  Damaso  is  not  among  us,  senor,"  replied 
Father  Sibyla,  rather  dryly. 

"Your  Excellency's  servant  lies  ill  in  bed,"  added 
Father  Salvi  meekly.  "After  having  the  pleasure  of  salut- 
ing you  and  of  inquiring  about  the  health  of  Your  Excel- 
lency, as  befits  all  the  good  servants  of  the  King  and  all 
persons  of  good  education,  we  also  come  in  the  name  of 
the  respectful  servant  of  Your  Excellency  who  has  the 
misfortune  .  .  ." 

"Oh,"  interrupted  the  Governor  General,  as  he  turned 
a  chair  around  on  one  leg  and  smiled  nervously.  "If  all 
the  servants  of  My  Excellency  were  like  His  Eeverence 
Father  Damaso,  I  would  prefer  to  serve  My  Excellency 
myself." 

The  Eeverences  did  not  know  how  to  respond  to  this 
interruption. 

"Take  a  seat,  Your  Eeverences !"  he  added  after  a  short 
pause,  softening  his  tone  a  little. 

Captain  Tiago  came  in  dressed  in  a  frock  coat  and  walk- 


118  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ing  on  tip-toes.  He  was  leading  Maria  Clara  by  the  hand. 
The  young  maiden  was  trembling  when  she  entered,  but 
notwithstanding  she  made  a  graceful  and  ceremonious  bow. 

"Is  this  your  daughter?"  asked  the  Governor  General, 
somewhat  surprised. 

"And  Your  Excellency's,  my  General,"  replied  Captain 
Tiago  seriously.* 

The  Alcalde  and  the  adjutants  opened  wide  their  eyes, 
but  His  Excellency  did  not  lose  his  gravity.  He  extended 
his  hand  to  the  young  maiden  and  said  to  her  affably: 
"Happy  are  the  fathers  who  have  daughters  like  you, 
seiiorita.  They  have  spoken  to  me  about  you  with  respect 
and  consideration.  .  .  I  have  desired  to  see  you  and  to 
thank  you  for  your  pretty  deed  of  to-day.  I  am  informed 
of  all,  and  when  I  Jj^'^^Q  to  His  Majesty's  Government  I 
will  not  forget  your  'generous  conduct.  In  the  meantime, 
senorita,  allow  me  in  the  name  of  His  Majesty  the  King 
whom  I  represent  here  and  who  loves  to  see  peace  and 
tranquillity  among  his  subjects,  and  in  my  own  name,  that 
of  a  father  who  also  hSs  daughters  of  your  age,  allow  me 
to  extend  to  you  most  sincere  thanks  and  propose  your 
name  for  some  mark  of  recognition." 

"Senor  .  .  ."  replied  Maria  Clara,  trembling. 

His  Excellency  guessed  what  she  wanted  to  say,  and 
replied :  "It  is  well  enough,  senorita,  that  you  are  satisfied 
in  your  own  conscience  with  the  mere  esteem  of  your  own 
people.  The  testimony  of  one's  people  is  the  highest  re- 
ward and  we  ought  not  to  ask  more.  But,  however,  I  will 
not  let  pass  this  excellent  opportunity  to  show  you  that, 
if  justice  knows  how  to  punish,  she  also  knows  how  to 
reward  and  is  not  always  blind." 

"Senor  Don  Juan  Crisostomo  awaits  Your  Excellency's 
orders,"  announced  the  adjutant  in  a  loud  voice. 

Maria  Clara  trembled. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  the  Governor  General.  "Permit  me, 
senorita,  to  express  the  desire  to  see  you  again  before  I 
leave  town.  I  still  have  some  very  important  things  to 
say  to  you.     Seiior  Alcalde,  Your  Lordship  will  accom- 

*  A  reply  which  accords  with  the  Spanish  idea  of  politeness 
but  rather  ludicrously  used  in  this  instance. 


His  Excellency.  119 

pany  me  for  a  walk  after  the  conference  which  I  will  hold 
alone  with  Senor  Ibarra." 

"Your  Excellency  will  permit  us,"  said  Father  Salvi 
meekly,  "to  inform  you  that  Senor  Ibarra  is  excom- 
municated .  .  ." 

His  Excellency  interrupted  him  saying:  "I  am  glad 
that  I  have  nothing  more  to  deplore  than  the  condition 
of  Father  Damaso,  for  whom  I  sincerely  wish  a  complete 
recovery,  because  at  his  age  a  voyage  to  Spain  for  his 
health  would  not  be  pleasant.  But  this  depends  on  him 
.  .  .  and  in  the  meantime,  may  God  preserve  the  health 
of  Your  Reverences." 

They  retired  one  a/ter  the  other. 

"We  will  see  who  will  make  the  journey  first,"  said  a 
Franciscan.  m^  - 

"I  am  going  off  now  right  away^*w9^'Father  Sibyla, 
with  indignation. 

"And  we  are  going  back  to  our  provinces,  too,"  said 
the  Augustins. 

They  could  not  endure  that  through  the  fault  of  a  Fran- 
ciscan His  Excellency  had  received  them  coldly. 

In  the  entrance  hall  they  met  Ibarra,  their  host  only 
a  few  hours  ago.  They  exchanged  no  salutations,  but 
their  looks  were  eloquent. 

,  The  Alcalde,  on  the  contrary,  when  the  friars  had  dis- 
appeared, greeted  the  young  man  and  extended  his  hand 
to  him  in  a  familiar  way.  But  the  arrival  of  the  adju- 
tant, who  was  looking  for  Ibarra,  did  not  give  them  an 
opportunity  to  converse. 

Ibarra  was  dressed  in  deep  mourning.  He  presented 
himself  in  a  calm  manner,  and  bowed  profoundly,  despite 
the  fact  that  the  sight  of  the  friars  had  not  seemed  a 
good  omen  for  him. 

The  Governor  General  advanced  a  few  steps.  "It  gives 
me  great  satisfaction  to  shake  your  hand.  Grant  me  your 
entire  confidence." 

"Senor  .  .  .  such  kindness  ...    !" 

'^our  surprise  offends  me.  It  indicates  that  you  did 
not  expect  a  good  reception  from  me.  That  is  doubting 
my  justice !" 


120  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"A  friendly  reception,  senor,  for  an  insignincant  subject 
like  myself,  is  not  justice,  it  is  a  favor." 

^^Well,  well!'^  said  His  Excellency,  sitting  down  and 
pointing  out  a  seat  for  Ibarra.  "Let  us  speak  frankly. 
I  am  very  much  pleased  with  your  action  and  I  have  al- 
ready proposed  to  His  Majesty's  Government  that  they 
grant  you  an  insignia  for  your  philanthropic  intention  of 
erecting  a  school.  .  .  If  you  had  asked  me,  I  would  have 
attended  the  ceremony  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  and 
perhaps  the  unpleasantness  would  have  been  avoided/' 

"My  idea  of  erecting  a  school  seems  to  me  so  insignifi- 
cant,''  replied  the  young  man,  "that  I  did  not  think  it 
an  occasion  worthy  of  taking  the  attention  of  Your  Ex- 
cellency from  your  many  duties  and  cares.  Then,  too,  it 
was  my  duty  to  first  address  the  highest  authority  of  the 
province." 

His  Excellency  made  a  bow  of  satisfaction  and  adopt- 
ing a  still  more  intimate  manner,  continued: 

"In  regard  to  the  unpleasantness  which  you  have  had 
with  Father  Damaso,  have  no  fear  nor  regret.  I  will  not 
touch  a  hair  of  your  head  while  I  govern  these  Islands. 
And  in  regard  to  the  excommunication,  I  will  speak  to 
the  Archbishop,  for  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  adapt  our- 
selves to  circumstances.  Here,  we  cannot  laugh  about 
these  things  in  public  as  we  do  in  Spain  or  in  cultured 
Europe.  Nevertheless,  be  more  prudent  in  the  future. 
You  have  put  yourself  in  opposition  to  the  religious  cor- 
porations, which,  on  account  of  your  position  and  wealth, 
need  to  be  respected.  But  I  will  protect  you,  because  I 
like  good  sons,  I  like  to  see  a  person  respect  the  honor  of 
his  father.  I,  too,  love  my  father,  and  as  sure  as  there 
is  a  God,  I  know  what  I  would  have  done  had  I  been 
in  your  place.  .  .  ." 

And  quickly  turning  the  conversation,  he  asked:  "You 
have  told  me  that  you  come  from  Europe;  ^ere  you  in 
Madrid?" 

^TTes,  senor;  for  some  months." 

"You  have  perhaps  heard  of  my  family  ?" 

'TTour  Excellency  had  just  left  when  I  had  the  honor 
to  be  presented  to  it." 


His  Excellency.  121 

^'And  why,  then,  did  you  come  here  without  bringing 
some  letter  of  introduction  ?'' 

"Senor,"  replied  Ibarra  bowing,  "because  I  do  not  come 
directly  from  Spain,  and  because,  having  heard  of  Your 
Excellency's  character,  I  thought  that  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction would  not  only  be  useless,  but  even  offensive.  All 
Filipinos  are  recommended  to  you." 

A  smile  appeared  on  the  lips  of  the  old  officer  and  he  re- 
plied slowly,  as  if  weighing  and  measuring  his  words : 

"It  flatters  me  to  learn  that  you  think  so  .  .  .  and  .  .  . 
so  it  ought  to  be.  However,  young  man,  you  ought  to 
know  what  loads  we  bear  upon  our  shoulders  here  in  the 
Philippines.  Here,  we,  old  army  officers,  have  to  do  and 
be  everything:  King,  Secretary  of  State,  of  War,  of  Ag- 
riculture, of  Internal  Affairs  and  of  Justice.  The  worst 
part  of  it  is  the  fact  that  in  regard  to  everything  we  have 
to  consult  our  distant  Mother  Country,  which  approves 
or  rejects  our  propositions,  according  to  circumstances, 
sometimes  blindly.  And  you  know  how  we  Spaniards 
say:  ^Grasp  much,  get  little.'  Then,  too,  we  come  here 
ignorant  of  the  country  and  we  leave  it  as  soon  as  we  begin 
to  know  it.  With  you  I  can  be  frank,  for  it  would  be 
useless  to  appear  otherwise.  In  Spain,  where  each  branch 
of  the  Government  has  its  own  Minister,  bom  and  brought 
up  in  the  country,  where  they  have  the  press  and  public 
opinion,  the  opposition  is  open  and  before  the  eyes  of  the 
Government,  and  shows  up  its  faults;  yet,  even  there,  all 
is  imperfect  and  defective.  And  when  you  consider  the 
conditions  here,  it  is  a  wonder  that  all  is  not  upset,  with 
all  those  advantages  lacking,  and  with  the  opposition  work- 
ing in  the  dark.  Good  intentions  and  wishes  are  not  want- 
ing in  us  governing  officials,  but  we  find  ourselves  obliged 
to  make  use  of  eyes  and  arms  which  frequently  we  do  not 
know,  and  which,  perhaps,  instead  of  serving  the  country, 
serve  only  their  own  interests.  That  is  not  our  fault;  it 
is  the  fault  of  circumstances.  You  arouse  my  interest 
and  I  do  not  want  our  present  system  of  government  to 
prejudice  you  in  any  way.  I  cannot  watch  everything, 
nor  can  I  attend  to  all.  Can  I  be  useful  to  you  in  any 
way?    Have  you  anything  to  request?" 

Ibarra  meditated. 


122  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Senor/'  lie  replied,  ^'^my  greatest  desire  is  tlie  happiness 
of  my  country,  a  happiness  due  to  the  efforts  of  our  Mother 
Country  and  to  the  efforts  of  my  fellow  countrymen, 
united  with  the  eternal  bonds  of  a  common  interest  and 
common  object.  What  I  ask  the  Government  can  only 
give  after  many  years  of  continuous  work  and  proper 
reforms." 

His  Excellency  looked  at  him  for  several  seconds  with 
a  look  which  Ibarra  met  naturally,  without  timidity  and 
without  boldness. 

"You  are  the  first  man  with  whom  I  have  spoken  in  this 
country,"  he  exclaimed  grasping  his  hand. 

"Your  Excellency  has  only  seen  those  who  lead  a  grovel- 
ling existence  in  the  city.  You  have  not  seen  the  calum- 
niated hovels  of  our  towns.  If  you  had,  you  would  have 
seen  true  men,  if  generous  hearts  and  simple  manners 
make  true  men.'' 

The  Governor  General  arose  and  paced  the  sola  from  one 
side  to  the  other. 

"Seiior  Ibarra,"  he  exclaimed,  stopping  a  moment.  The 
young  man  arose.  "I  will  probably  leave  here  within  a 
month.  Your  education  and  your  mode  of  thinking  are 
not  for  this  country.  Sell  what  you  possess,  get  your 
trunk  ready  and  come  with  me  to  Europe.  That  climate 
will  be  better  for  you." 

"I  shall  cherish  all  my  life  the  memory  of  Your  Excel- 
lency's kindness,"  replied  Ibarra,  moved  by  what  the  Gov- 
ernor General  had  said.  "But  I  ought  to  live  in  the 
country  where  my  fathers  have  lived.  .  .  ." 

"Where  they  have  died,  you  should  say,  to  speak  more 
exactly.  Believe  me!  I  possibly  know  your  country  bet- 
ter than  you  do  yourself.  ...  Ah !  Now  I  remember," 
he  exclaimed  changing  the  tone  of  his  voice.  'TTou  are 
going  to  marry  a  lovely  girl  and  I  am  keeping  you  here ! 
Go,  go  to  her  side,  and  that  you  may  have  greater  liberty 
send  her  father  to  me,"  he  added,  smiling.  "Do  not  forget, 
however,  that  I  want  you  to  accompany  me  for  a  walk." 

Ibarra  bowed  and  departed. 

His  Excellency  called  his  adjutant. 

"I  am  happy,"  said  he,  giving  him  a  light  slap  on  the 
shoulder.  •   "To-day  I  have  seen  for  the  first  time  how  one 


His  Excellency.  123 

can  be  a  good  Spaniard  without  ceasing  to  be  a  good  Fil- 
ipino and  to  love  his  country.  To-day,  at  last,  I  have 
shown  the  Reverences  that  we  are  not  all  their  playthings. 
This  young  man  has  afforded  me  the  opportunity,  and,  in 
a  short  time,  I  will  have  settled  all  of  my  accounts  with 
the  friar.  It's  a  pity  that  this  young  man,  some  day  013 
other  .  .  .  but  call  the  Alcalde  to  me.^' 

The  latter  presented  himself  at  once. 

"Senor  Alcalde,''  he  said  to  him,  as  he  entered  the  room, 
"in  order  to  avoid  a  repetition  of  scenes  such  as  Your 
Honor  witnessed  this  afternoon,  scenes  which  I  deplore 
because  they  take  away  the  prestige  of  the  Government 
and  all  Spaniards,  I  want  to  commend  to  you  warmly 
Senor  Ibarra,  that  you  may  not  only  aid  him  in  carrying 
out  his  patriotic  ends,  but  also  prevent  in  the  future  any 
person  of  whatever  class  or  under  whatever  pretext,  from 
molesting  him." 

The  Alcalde  understood  the  reprimand  and  bowed  to 
conceal  his  confusion. 

"Have  the  alferez,  who  is  in  command  here,  informed 
to  the  same  effect.  And  you  will  find  out  if  it  is  true  that 
this  officer  has  methods  of  procedure  that  are  not  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  regulations.  I  have  heard  more  than 
one  complaint  on  this  score." 

Captain  Tiago,  all  starched  and  ironed,  presented  him- 
self. 

"Don  Santiago,"  said  His  Excellency,  in  a  cordial  tone 
of  voice,  "a  little  while  ago  I  was  congratulating  you  on 
having  a  daughter  like  the  Senorita  de  los  Santos.  Now 
I  want  to  congratulate  you  on  your  future  son-in-law. 
The  most  virtuous  of  daughters  is  certainly  worthy  of  the 
best  citizen  of  the  Philippines.  Is  the  date  of  the  wedding 
known  ?" 

"Senor!"  stammered  the  Captain,  wiping  away  the 
perspiration  which  was  running  down  his  face. 

"0,  come !  I  see  that  there  is  nothing  definite.  If  you 
need  godfathers,  I  will  be  one  of  them  with  the  greatest 
pleasure.  I  would  do  it  to  take  away  the  bad  taste  which 
so  many  of  the  weddings  which  I  have  attended,  here  have 
left  in  my  mouth/'  he  added,  turning  to  the  Alcalde, 


424  Friars  and  Filipinos/ 

*'Yes,  senor  V'  replied  Captain  Tiago,  with  a  smile  which 
inspired  compassion. 

Ibarra  had  gone  in  sea/rch  of  Maria  Clara,  almost  on  a 
run.  He  had  so  many  things  to  tell  her.  He  heard  some 
gentle  voices  in  one  of  the  rooms  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

"Who  knocks?''  asked  Maria  Clara. 

The  voices  were  silenced  and  the  door  .  .  .  was  not 
opened. 

"It  is  I.  May  I  come  in?''  asked  the  young  man,  his 
heart  beating  violently. 

The  silence  was  not  broken.  A  few  seconds  afterward 
gentle  steps  approached  the  door  and  Sinang's  cheerful 
voice  murmured  through  the  key-hole:  "Crisostomo,  we 
are  going  to  the  theatre  to-night.  Write  what  you  have 
to  siy  to  Maria  Clara." 

Then  the  footsteps  were  heard  retreating,  as  quickly 
as  they  had  come. 

"What  does  that  mean!"  murmured  Ibarra  to  himself, 
as  he  went  skwly  away  from  the  door. 


The  Procession.  125 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    PROOBSSION-. 

In  the  evening,  by  the  light  of  lanterns  hung  from  win- 
dows, to  the  ringing  of  bells  and  bursting  of  bombs,  the 
procession  started  for  the  fourth  time. 

The  Governor  General  left  the  house  on  foot,  in  com- 
pany with  his  two  adjutants,  Captain  Tiago,  the  Alcalde, 
the  alferez,  and  Ibarra.  The  Civil  Guards  and  the  officials 
of  the  town  preceded  them  and  cleared  the  way.  His  Ex- 
cellency had  been  invited  to  witness  the  procession  from 
the  house  of  the  gohernadorcillo,  in  front  of  which  a  plat- 
form had  been  erected  for  the  recitation  of  a  loa,  or  re- 
ligious poem,  in  honor  of  the  Patron  Saint.  Ibarra  had 
previously  declined  with  pleasure  an  invitation  to  hear 
this  poetical  composition,  as  he  had  preferred  to  witness 
the  procession  from  the  house  of  Captain  Tiago  with  Maria 
Clara  and  her  friends.  But,  as  His  Excellency  wished  to 
hear  the  loa,  there  was  no  other  remedy  for  Ibarra  but  to 
console  himself  with  the  hope  of  seeing  her  at  the  theatre. 

The  procession  was  headed  by  three  sacristans  carrying 
silver  candlesticks.  The  children  of  the  school,  accom- 
panied by  their  teacher,  followed.  Then  came  the  small 
boys,  with  colored  paper  lanterns  fastened  to  the  ends  of 
pieces  of  bamboo,  each  more  or  less  adorned  according  to 
the  caprices  of  the  boy,  for  this  part  of  the  illumination 
was  paid  for  entirely  by  themselves.  However,  they  ful- 
filled this  dut}  ivitii  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 

In  the  midst  of  it  all,  men  serving  as  police,  passed  to 
and  fro  to  see  that  the  files  of  the  procession  were  not 
broken  or  the  people  jammed  together  in  a  crowd.  For 
this  purpose  they  used  their  wands  and  inflicted  some  hard 
blows,  thus  managing  to  add  to  the  brilliancy  of  the  pro- 
cession, to  the  edification  of  souls  and  to  the  glory  of  re- 
ligious pomp. 


126  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

At  the  same  time  that  the  officers  inflicted  these  sancti- 
fied floggings  with  their  wands  free  of  charge,  others,  to 
console  those  who  had  been  punished,  distributed  wax  and 
tallow  candles,  also  free  of  charge. 

"Senor  Alcalde,"  said  Ibarra,  in  a  low  voice,  "do  they 
inflict  those  blows  to  punish  the  sinners  or  merely  for 
pleasure  ?" 

"You  are  right,  Senor  Ibarra,"  replied  the  Governor 
General,  who  had  overheard  his  question.  "This  spectacle 
.  .  .  barbarous  .  .  .  astonishing  to  those  who  come  from 
other  countries,  ought  to  be  prohibited." 

Although  it  cannot  be  explained,  the  first  saint  who 
appeared  was  San  Juan  el  Baptisto.  On  seeing  him,  you 
would  say  that  the  cousin  of  Our  Saviour  did  not  enjoy 
any  great  renown  among  these  people.  He  had  slender 
feet  and  legs  and  the  face  of  a  hermit,  and  was  carried 
along  on  an  old  wooden  litter.  In  marked  contrast  to  the 
representation  of  San  Juan,  was  that  of  San  Francisco, 
the  founder  of  the  great  order.  The  latter  was  drawn  in 
a  car,  and,  as  Tasio  said:  "What  a  car!  How  many 
lights  and  glass  lanterns!  Why,  I  have  never  seen  you 
surrounded  by  so  many  illuminations,  Giovanni  Bemar- 
done !     And  what  music !" 

Behind  the  music  came  a  standard  representing  the 
same  saint,  but  with  seven  wings.  It  was  carried  by  the 
brothers  of  the  Third  Order,  dressed  in  guingon  and  praying 
in  a  loud  and  mournful  voice.  The  next  in  the  procession 
was  Santa  Maria  Magdalena,  a  most  beautiful  image  with 
an  abundant  growth  of  hair,  a  handkerchief  of  embroidered 
jtina  cloth  between  her  ring-covered  fingers,  and  wearing  a 
dress  of  silk  adorned  with  gold-leaf.  Lights  and  incense 
surrounded  her.  The  glass  tears  from  her  eyes  reflected 
the  colors  of  the  colored  fire  which  was  burned  here  and 
there,  giving  a  fantastic  aspect  to  the  procession.  Con- 
sequently, the  sinful  saint  appeared  to  be  weeping  now 
green,  now  red  and  now  blue  tears.  The  people  did  not 
begin  to  burn  these  colored  lights  till  San  Francisco  was 
passing;  San  Juan  el  Baptisto  did  not  enjoy  this  honor, 
passing  by  quickly,  ashamed  perhaps  to  go  dressed  in  skins 
among  so  many  saints  covered  with  gold  and  precious 
jewels. 


The  Procession.  127 

"There  goes  our  saint!"  cried  the  daughter  of  the 
gobernadorcillo  to  her  visitors.  "I  loaned  her  my  rings, 
but  I  did  it  to  get  to  Heaven/' 

Those  carrying  the  illuminations  stopped  near  the  plat- 
form to  hear  the  loa.  The  saints  did  the  same.  They 
and  their  carriers  wanted  to  hear  the  verses.  Those  who 
carried  San  Juan,  tired  of  waiting,  squatted  down  in  the 
characteristic  Filipino  manner,  and  found  it  convenient  to 
leave  their  burden  on  the  ground. 

"You'll  get  into  trouble,^'  objected  one. 

"Jesus!  In  the  sacristry,  they  leave  him  in  a  comer 
among  spider-webs.  .  .  ." 

After  Magdalena  came  the  women.  They  differed 
from  the  men  in  arrangement.  Instead  of  the  children, 
the  old  women  came  first  and  finally  the  unmarried  women. 
Behind  these  came  the  car  of  the  Virgin,  and  behind  that, 
the  curate  under  his  canopy.  Father  Damaso  gave  the 
following  reason  for  putting  the  young  women  next  to 
the  Virgin's  car:  "The  Virgin  likes  young  women,  but 
not  old  ones.''  Of  course,  this  explanation  caused  many 
of  the  older  women  to  make  wry  faces,  but  that  did  not 
change  the  taste  of  the  Virgin. 

San  Diego  followed  Magdalena,  but  he  did  not  seem  to 
rejoice  over  the  fact,  for  he  was  as  precise  in  his  behavior 
as  on  the  morning  when  he  followed  along  behind  San 
Francisco.  Six  brothers  of  the  Third  Order  drew  the  car. 
San  Diego  stopped  before  the  platform  and  awaited  for 
the  people  to  salute  him. 

But  it  was  necessary  to  await  the  car  which  contained 
the  image  of  the  Virgin.  Preceding  this  car  were  some 
people  dressed  in  a  fantastic  manner  which  made  children 
cry  and  babies  scream.  In  the  midst  of  that  dark  mass  of 
habits,  hoods  and  girdles,  to  the  sound  of  that  monoto- 
nous and  nasal  prayer,  one  could  see,  like  white  jessamine, 
like  fresh  pansies  among  old  rags,  twelve  young  lassies 
dressed  in  white,  crowned  with  flowers,  with  hair  curled 
and  eyes  bright  as  the  necklaces  they  wore.  Seizing  hold 
of  two  wide  blue  bands  which  were  tied  to  the  car  of  the 
Virgin,  they  drew  it  along,  reminding  one  of  doves  draw- 
ing the  car  of  Spring. 

And  now  when  the  images  were  all  attentive,  when  this 


128  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

child  and  tHat  had  heen  slapped  sufficiently  to  make  him 
listen  to  the  verses,  when  everybody  had  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  half  open  curtain,  at  last,  an  aaaah!  of  admiration 
escaped  from  the  lips  of  all. 

And  the  sight  merited  it.  A  young  child  appeared  with 
wings,  riding  boots,  a  cordon  over  its  shoulder,  a  belt  and 
a  plumed  hat. 

"The  Senor  Alcalde!"  cried  fome  one,  but  the  young 
prodigy  recited  a  poem  in  such  a  manner  that  the  Alcalde 
was  not  offended  at  the  comparison. 

The  procession  then  continued.  San  Juan  followed  out 
his  bitter  career. 

As  the  Virgin  passed  before  the  house  of  Captain  Tiago, 
a  heavenly  song  greeted  her  like  the  words  of  an  archangel. 
It  was  a  sweet,  melodious,  supplicating  voice,  weeping  the 
Ave  Maria  of  Gounod.  The  music  of  the  procession  was 
Bilenced,  the  praying  ceased,  and  Father  Salvi  himself 
stopped.  The  voice  trembled  and  brought  tears  to  the 
cheeks  of  those  who  heard  it.  That  voice  expressed  more 
than  a  salutation,  a  prayer,  or  a  plaint. 

From  the  window,  where  he  was  viewing  the  procession, 
Ibarra  heard  the  voice,  and  melancholy  took  possession  of 
his  heart.  He  understood  what  that  soul  was  suffering 
and  what  was  expressed  in  that  song.  He  was  afraid  to 
think  of  the  cause  of  that  grief. 

The  Governor  General  found  him  pensive  and  sad. 


Dona  Consolacion.  129 


CHAPTER  XXL 

DOfi^A  CONSOLACION. 

Why  were  the  windows  in  the  alferez's  house  closed? 
Where  was  the  masculine  face  and  the  flannel  shirt  of  the 
Medusa  or  Muse  of  the  Civil  Guard  while  the  procession 
was  passing?  Could  she  have  understood  how  unpleas- 
ant was  the  sight  of  the  swelling  veins  of  her  forehead, 
filled,  it  seemed,  not  with  blood  but  with  vinegar  and  bile ; 
of  her  large  cigar,  that  worthy  ornament  of  her  red  lips ; 
and  of  her  envious  look;  could  she  have  understood  all 
of  that,  and,  giving  way  to  a  generous  impulse,  have  re- 
frained from  disturbing  the  gayety  of  the  crowd  by  her 
sinister  apparition? 

Alas !  Her  generous  impulses  lived  only  in  the  golden 
age. 

Her  house  was  sad  because  other  people  were  merry,  as 
Sinang  put  it.  There  neither  lanterns  nor  flags  could  be 
seen.  In  fact,  if  the  sentry  were  not  walking  up  and 
down  in  front  of  the  gate,  you  would  have  said  that  the 
house  was  unoccupied. 

A  feeble  light  illumined  the  disarranged  sala,  and  made 
transparent  the  oyster-shell  windows  filled  with  spider- 
webs  and  covered  with  dust.  The  Senora,  according  to 
her  custom,  her  hands  folded,  sat  in  a  wide  arm-chair.  She 
was  dressed  the  same  as  every  day,  that  is  to  say,  out- 
rageously out  of  taste.  In  detail,  she  had  a  handkerchief 
tied  around  her  head,  while  short,  slender  locks  of  tangled 
hair  hung  down  on  either  side;  a  blue  flannel  shirt  over 
another  shirt  which  should  have  been  white ;  and  a  faded- 
out  skirt  which  moulded  itself  to  her  slender  thighs  as 
she  sat  with  her  legs  crossed  and  nervously  wiggled  her 
foot.  From  her  mouth,  came  big  puffs  of  smoke,  which 
she  fastidiously  blew  up  in  the  space  toward  which  she 
looked  when  her  eyes  were  open. 


130  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

That  morning  the  Seiiora  had  not  heard  mass,  not  be- 
cause she  had  not  cared  to  hear  it,  for  on  the  contrary  she 
wanted  to  show  herself  to  the  multitude  and  to  hear  the 
sermon,  but  because  her  husband  had  not  permitted  her 
to  do  so.  As  was  usually  the  case,  his  prohibition  was  ac- 
companied by  two  or  three  insults,  oaths  and  threats  of 
kicking.  The  alferez  understood  that  his  "female" 
dressed  hersel;f  in  a  ridiculous  manner,  and  that  it  was 
not  fitting  to  expose  her  to  the  eyes  of  the  people  from 
the  capital  nor  even  the  country  districts. 

But  she  did  not  understand  it  that  way.  She  knew  that 
she  was  beautiful,  attractive,  that  she  had  the  manners  of 
a  queen  and  that  she  dressed  much  better  and  more  gor- 
geously than  Maria  Clara  herself,  though  to  be  sure  the 
latter  wore  a  tapis  over  her  skirt  while  she  wore  only  the 
skirt.  The  alferez  had  to  say  to  her:  "Oh,  shut  your 
mouth  or  I'll  kick  you  till  you  do  V 

Dona  Consolacion  did  not  care  to  be  kicked,  but  she 
planned  revenge. 

The  dark  face  of  the  Senora  never  had  inspired  confi- 
dence in  anybody,  not  even  when  she  painted  it.  That 
morning  she  was  exceptionally  uneasy,  and  as  she  walked 
from  one  end  of  the  sala  to  the  other,  in  silence  and  as 
if  meditating  something  terrible,  her  eyes  shone  like  those 
of  a  serpent  about  to  be  crushed.  Her  look  was  cold,  lu- 
minous, aiid  penetrating  and  had  something  vicious, 
loathsome  and  cruel  in  it. 

The  slightest  defect  in  anything,  the  most  insignificant 
or  unusual  noise  brought  forth  an  obscene  and  infamous 
expression ;  but  no  one  responded.  To  offer  an  excuse  was 
a  crime. 

So  the  day  passed.  Encountering  no  obstacle  in  her 
way — her  husband  had  been  invited  out — she  became  satu- 
rated with  bile. 

Everything  around  bent  itself  before  her.  She  met  no 
resistance,  there  was  nothing  upon  which  she  could  dis- 
charge the  vials  of  her  wrath.  Soldiers  and  servants 
crawled  before  her. 

That  she  might  not  hear  the  rejoicing  going  on  outside, 
she  ordered  the  windows  to  be  closed,  and  charged  the 
sentry  not  to  permit  any  one  to  enter.     She  tied  a  hand- 


Dona  Consolacion.  131 

kerchief  around  her  head  to  prevent  it  from  bursting; 
and,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  sun  was  still  shining 
brightly,  she  ordered  the  lamps  lighted. 

A  madwoman  who  had  been  detained  for  disturbing 
the  public  peace  was  taken  to  the  barracks.  The  alferez 
was  not  there  at  the  time  and  the  unhappy  woman  had  to 
pass  the  night  seated  on  a  bench.  The  following  day  the 
alferez  returned.  Fearing  lest  the  unhappy  woman 
should  become  the  butt  of  the  crowd  during  the  fiesta,  he 
ordered  the  soldiers  who  were  guarding  her  to  treat  her 
with  pity  and  give  her  something  to  eat.  Thus  the  de- 
mented woman  passed  two  days. 

Whether  the  proximity  to  Captain  Tiago's  house  made 
it  possible  for  the  sad  song  of  Maria  Clara  to  reach  her 
ears,  whether  other  strains  of  music  awoke  in  her  memo- 
ries of  old  songs,  or  whether  there  was  some  other  cause 
for  it,  at  any  rate,  the  madwoman  began  that  night  to  sing 
with  a  sweet  and  melancholy  voice  the  songs  of  her  youth. 
The  soldiers  heard  her  and  kept  silent.  Those  songs 
brought  back  memories  of  the  old  times. 

Doha  Consolacion  also  heard  it  in  her  sorrow,  and  be- 
came interested  in  the  person  who  was  singing. 

"Tell  her  to  come  upstairs  at  once !"  she  ordered,  after 
some  seconds  of  meditation.  Something  like  a  smile 
passed  over  her  dry  lips. 

They  brought  the  woman  and  she  presented  herself 
without  any  discomposure,  and  without  manifesting  either 
fear  or  surprise. 

"Orderly,  tell  this  woman  in  Tagalog  to  sing !"  said  the 
alfereza.  "She  don^t  understand  me;  she  does  not  know 
Spanish." 

The  demented  woman  understood  the  orderly  and  sang 
the  song  "Night."^ 

Doha  Consolacion  listened  to  the  beginning  with  a 
mocking  smile  which  disappeared  gradually  from  her 
lips.  She  became  attentive,  then  more  serious  and  pen- 
sive. The  woman's  voice,  the  sentiment  of  the  verses 
and  the  song  itself  impressed  her.  That  dry  and  burning 
heart  was  perhaps  softened.  She  understood  the  song 
well:  "Sadness,  cold,  and  dampness,  wrapped  in  the 
mantle  of  Night  descend  from  the  sky,"  as  the  folk  song 


132  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

puts  it.  It  seemed  that  they  were  also  descending  upon 
her  heart.  "The  withered  flower  which  during  the  day 
has  paraded  its  dress,  desirous  of  applause  and  full  of 
vanity,  at  nightfall  repenting,  makes  an  effort  to  raise 
its  faded  petals  to  the  sky,  and  begs  for  a  little  shade  in 
which  to  hide  itself,  so  as  to  die  v/ithout  the  mockery  of 
the  light  which  saw  it  in  its  pomp,  to  die  without  the 
vanity  of  its  pride  being  seen,  and  begging  for  a  drop 
of  dew,  to  weep  over  it.  The  night  bird,  leaving  its  soli- 
tary retreat  in  the  hollow  of  the  old  tree,  disturbs  the 
melancholy  of  the  forests.  .  ." 

"No,  no !  Do  not  sing !"  exclaimed  the  alfereza  in  per- 
fect Tagalog  and  raising  to  her  feet  somewhat  agitated. 
"Don^t  sing!     Those  verses  hurt  me!" 

The  demented  woman  stopped.  The  orderly  muttered 
"Bah !"  and  exclaimed  "She  knows  how  to  paid  Tagalog !" 
and  stood  looking  at  the  senora  full  of  surprise. 

The  Muse  understood  that  she  had  been  caught,  and 
was  ashamed.  As  her  nature  was  not  that  of  a  woman, 
her  shame  took  the  form  of  rage  and  hatred.  She  pointed 
out  the  door  to  the  impudent  orderly  and  with  a  kick 
closed  it  behind  him.  She  took  several  turns  about  the 
room,  twisting  a  whip  between  her  nervous  hands,  and 
then,  stopping  suddenly  in  front  of  the  demented  woman, 
said  in  Spanish :  "Dance  !" 

The  demented  one  did  not  move. 

"Dance !     Dance !"  she  repeated  in  a  threatening  voice. 

The  poor  woman  looked  at  the  Senora,  her  eyes  devoid 
of  expression.  The  alfereza  raised  one  arm  and  then  the 
other,  shaking  them  in  a  menacing  way. 

She  then  leaped  up  in  the  air,  and  Jumped  around  urg- 
ing the  other  woman  to  imitate  her.  The  band  in  the 
procession  could  be  heard  playing  a  slow,  majestic  march, 
but  the  Senora,  leaping  about  furiously  was  keeping  time 
to  different  music  than  that  the  band  was  playing,  that 
music  which  resounded  within  her.  A  curious  look  ap- 
peared in  the  madwoman's  eyes,  and  a  weak  smile  moved 
her  pale  lips.    She  liked  the  Senora's  dancing. 

The  alfereza  stopped  dancing  as  if  ashamed.  She 
raised  the  whip,  that  terrible  whip  made  in  Ulango  and 
improved  by  the  alferez  by  winding  wire  around  it,  that 


Dona  Consolacion.  133 

same  terrible  whip  which  the  ladrones  and  soldiers  knew 
so  well. 

"Now  it  is  your  turn  to  dance.     .     .         dance!" 

And  she  began  to  whip  lightly  the  demented  woman's 
bare  feet. 

The  pale  face  contracted  with  pain,  and  she  was  obliged 
to  defend  herself  from  the  blows  by  her  hands. 

"Come !  Go  ahead !"  she  exclaimed  with  savage  de- 
light, and  she  passed  from  lento  to  a  allegro-vivace  in  the 
use  of  her  whip. 

The  unhappy  woman  screamed  and  quickly  raised  her 
feet. 

"You  have  got  to  dance,  you  d d  Indian!"  ex- 
claimed the  Senora  and  the  whip  whizzed  and  whistled. 

The  woman  let  herself  sink  to  the  floor  and  tried  to 
cover  her  legs  with  her  hands,  at  the  same  time  looking 
with  wild  eyes  at  her  tormentor.  Two  heavy  lashs  on 
her  back  made  her  rise  again.  Now  it  was  no  longer  a 
scream ;  it  was  a  howl  which  escaped  from  the  unfortunate 
woman.  The  thin  shirt  was  torn,  the  skin  broke  open  and 
the  blood  oozed  out. 

The  sight  of  blood  excites  a  tiger;  so,  too,  the  sight 
of  the  blood  of  her  victim  infuriated  Dona  Consolacion. 

"Dance !     dance !     Curse  you !     D n  you !     Dance ! 

Cursed  be  the  mother  who  bore  you !"  she  cried.  "Dance, 
or  I'll  kill  you  by  whipping  you  to  death !" 

Then  the  dlfereza,  taking  the  woman  with  one  hand  and 
whipping  her  with  another,  began  to  jump  and  dance. 

The  insane  woman  understood  her  at  last  and  went  on 
moving  her  arms  regardless  of  time  or  tune.  A  smile  of 
satisfaction  contracted  the  lips  of  the  teacher.  It  was  like 
the  smile  of  a  female  Mephistopheles  who  had  succeeded 
in  developing  a  good  pupil;  it  was  full  of  hatred,  con- 
tempt, mockery  and  cruelty;  a  coarse  laugh  could  not 
have  expressed  more. 

Absorbed  in  the  enjoyment  which  the  spectacle  afforded 
her,  she  did  not  hear  her  husband  coming,  until  he  opened 
the  door  with  a  kick. 

The  alferez  appeared,  pale  and  gloomy.  He  saw  what 
;was  going  on  there  and  looked  daggers  at  his  wife.    She 


134  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

did  not  move  from  her  tracks  and  stood  smiling  in  a 
cynical  way. 

In  the  gentlest  manner  possible,  he  put  his  hand  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  dancing  woman  and  made  her  stop.  The 
demented  woman  sighed  and  slowly  sat  down  on  the 
blood-covered  floor. 

The  silence  continued.  The  alferez  was  breathing 
heavily.  His  wife  was  observing  him  with  her  question- 
ing eyes.  She  seized  the  whip  and  in  a  calm  and 
measured  tone  asked  him :  "What's  the  matter  with  you  ? 
You  have  not  said  'good  evening'  to  me." 

The  alferez,  without  replying,  called  the  orderly. 

"Take  this  woman,"  he  said,  "and  have  Marta  give  her 
another  shirt  and  take  care  of  her.  Find  her  good  food, 
and  a  good  bed.  .  .  Let  him  look  out  who  treats  her 
badly !" 

After  carefully  closing  the  door,  he  turned  the  key  in  the 
lock  and  approached  his  senora. 

"You  want  me  to  smash  you?"  he  said,  clenching  his 
fists. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  asked  she,  retreating  a 
step  or  two. 

"What's  the  matter  with  me  ?'^  he  shouted,  in  a  thunder- 
ing voice,  and,  giving  vent  to  an  oath,  showed  her  a  paper 
covered  with  scribbling.    He  continued: 

"Didn't  you  write  this  letter  to  the  Alcalde,  saying  that 

I  am  paid  for  permitting  the  gambling,  d n  you?    I 

don't  know  how  I  can  keep  from  smashing  you." 

"Go  ahead !  Try  it  if  you  dare !"  said  she,  with  a  mock- 
ing smile.  "He  who  smashes  me  has  got  to  be  more  of  a 
man  than  you!" 

He  heard  the  insult,  but  he  saw  the  whip.  He  seized 
one  of  the  plates  which  were  on  the  table  and  threw  it 
at  her  head.  The  woman,  accustomed  to  these  fights, 
ducked  quickly  and  the  plate  was  shivered  to  pieces  against 
the  wall.  A  glass,  a  cup,  and  a  knife  shared  the  same 
fortune. 

"Coward!"  she  cried.     "You  dare  not  come  near  me!" 

And  then  she  spat  at  him  to  exasperate  him  more.  The 
man,  blind  and  howling  with  rage,  threw  himself  on  her, 
but  she,  with  wonderful  rapidity,  struck  him  a  few  blows 


Dona  Consolacion.  135 

across  the  face  with  the  whip,  and  quickly  escaped.  Clos- 
ing the  door  of  her  room  with  a  slam,  she  locked  herself 
in.  Roaring  with  rage  and  pain  the  alferez  followed  her, 
but,  coming  up  against  the  door,  he  could  do  nothing  but 
belch  forth  a  string  of  blasphemies. 

"Cursed  be  your  ancestors,  you  swine!     Open,  d ^n 

you !  Open  that  door  or  I'll  break  your  skull !"  he  howled, 
pounding  and  kicking  the  panels. 

Dona  Consolacion  did  not  reply.  A  moving  of  chairs 
and  trunks  could  be  heard,  as  though  some  one  was  trying 
to  raise  a  barricade  of  household  furniture.  The  house 
fairly  shook  with  the  oaths  and  kicks  of  the  husband. 

"Don't  you  come  in!  Don't  you  come  in!"  she  said, 
in  a  bitter  voice.     "If  you  show  yourself,  I'll  shoot  you  \" 

The  husband  calmed  down,  little  by  little,  and  con- 
tented himself  with  pacing  from  one  end  of  the  sala  to 
the  other  like  a  wild  animal  in  its  cage. 

"Go  and  cool  your  head!"  continued  the  woman  in 
mockery.  She  seemed  to  have  concluded  her  preparations 
for  defense. 

"I  swear  that  when  I  catch  you,  no  one — ^not  even  God 
— ^will  see  you  again !     I'll  smash  you  so  fine." 

'TTes!  Now  you  can  say  what  you  wish.  You  would 
not  let  me  go  to  mass.  You  would  not  let  me  fulfill  my 
duty  to  God!"  she  said  with  such  sarcasm  as  she  alone 
knew  how  to  use. 

The  alferez  took  his  helmet,  straightened  out  his  clothes, 
and  walked  away  several  paces.  But,  at  the  end  of  several 
minutes,  he  returned  without  making  the  slightest  noise, 
for  he  had  taken  off  his  boots.  The  servants,  accustomed 
to  these  spectacles,  paid  no  attention  to  them,  but  the 
novelty  of  this  move  with  the  boots  attracted  their  notice 
and  they  gave  each  other  the  wink. 

The  alferez  sat  down  on  a  chair  next  to  the  door  and 
had  the  patience  to  wait  more  than  half  an  hour. 

"Have  you  really  gone  out  or  are  you  there,  you  he- 
goat?"  asked  a  voice  from  time  to  time,  changing  the 
epithets  but  raising  the  tone. 

Finally,  she  commenced  to  take  away  the  furniture  from 
her  barricade.    He  heard  the  noise  and  smiled. 


136  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Orderly !  Has  the  senor  gone  out  ?"  cried  Dofia  Con- 
solacion. 

The  orderly  at  a  signal  from  the  alferez,  replied:  "Yes, 
senora,  he  has  gone  out!'' 

He  could  hear  her  laugh  triumphantly.  She  drew  back 
the  bolt.  The  husband  arose  to  his  feet  slowly;  the  door 
was  opened. 

A  cry,  the  noise  of  a  body  falling,  oaths,  howling, 
swearing,  blows,  hoarse  voices.  Who  can  describe  what 
took  place  in  the  darkness  of  the  bedroom? 

The  orderly,  going  out  to  the  kitchen,  made  a  very  ex- 
pressive gesture  to  the  cook. 

"And  now  you'll  catch  it !"  said  the  latter. 

"I?  No,  sir.  The  town  will,  not  I.  She  asked  me  if 
he  had  gone  out,  not  if  he  had  returned." 


Might  and  Right.  137 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MIGHT     AND     RIGHT. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  The  last  rockets 
lazily  soared  into  the  dark  sky,  where  paper  balloons  shone 
like  new  stars.  Some  of  the  fireworks  had  set  fire  to 
houses  and  were  threatening  them  with  destruction;  for 
this  reason  men  could  be  seen  on  the  ridges  of  the  roofs 
carrying  buckets  of  water  and  long  bamboo  poles  with 
cloths  tied  on  the  ends.  Their  dark  shadows  seemed  de- 
scended from  ethereal  space  to  be  present  at  the  rejoicings 
of  human  beings.  An  enormous  number  of  wheels  had  been 
burned,  also  castles,  bulls,  caraboas  and  other  pieces  of 
fireworks,  and  finally  a  great  volcano,  which  surpassed 
in  beauty  and  grandeur  anything  that  the  inhabitants 
of  San  Diego  had  ever  seen. 

Now  the  people  turned  in  one  great  crowd  toward  the 
plaza  to  attend  the  last  theatrical  performance.  Here 
and  there  could  be  seen  the  colored  Bengal  lights,  fan- 
tastically illuminating  groups  of  merry  people.  The 
small  boys  were  making  use  of  their  torches  to  search  for 
unexploded  firecrackers  in  the  grass,  or,  in  fact,  for  any- 
thing else  that  might  be  of  use  to  them.  But  the  music 
was  the  signal  and  all  abandoned  the  lawn  for  the  theatre. 

The  large  platform  was  splendidly  illuminated.  Thou- 
sands of  lights  surrounded  the  pillars  and  hung  from  the 
roof,  while  a  number,  in  pyramid-shaped  groups,  were 
arranged  on  the  floor  of  the  stage.  An  employee  attended 
to  these  and  whenever  he  would  come  forward  to  regulate 
them,  the  public  would  whistle  at  him  and  shout :  "There 
he  is !     There  he  is  now  \" 

In  front  of  the  stage,  the  orchestra  tuned  its  instru- 
ments, and,  behind  the  musicians  sat  the  principal  people 
of  the  town.  Spaniards  and  rich  visitors  were  occupying 
the  reserved  chairs.     The  public,  the  mass  of  people  with* 


138  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

out  titles  or  rank,  filled  the  rest  of  the  plaza.  Some  car- 
ried with  them  benches,  not  so  much  for  seats  as  to  remedy 
their  lack  of  stature.  When  they  stood  upon  them,  rude 
protests  were  made  on  the  part  of  those  without  benches 
or  things  to  stand  on.  Then  they  would  get  down  im- 
mediately, but  soon  mount  up  on  their  pedestals  again  as 
if  nothing  had  happened. 

Comings  and  goings,  cries,  exclamations,  laughter, 
squibs  that  had  been  slow  in  going  off,  and  firecrackers 
increased  the  tumult.  Here,  a  foot  broke  through  a 
bench,  and  some  one  fell  to  the  floor,  while  the  crowd 
laughed  and  made  a  show  of  him  who  had  come  so  far  to 
see  a  show.  There,  they  fought  and  disputed  over  posi- 
tions, and,  a  little  farther  on,  the  noise  of  breaking  bottles 
and  glasses  could  be  heard:  it  was  Andeng.  She  was 
carrying  drinks  and  refreshments  on  a  tray  which  she  was 
balancing  with  both  hands,  but  she  had  met  her  lover  and 
he  tried  to  take  advantage  of  her  helplessness  by  tick- 
ling. .  .  . 

The  teniente  mayor  presided  at  the  production  since  the 
gobernadorcillo  was  fonder  of  monte. 

Maria  Clara  and  her  friends  had  arrived,  and  Don  Filipo 
received  them,  and  accompanied  them  to  their  seats.  Be- 
hind came  the  curate  with  another  Franciscan  and  some 
Spaniards.  With  the  curate  were  some  other  people  who 
make  it  their  business  to  escort  the  friars. 

"May  God  reward  them  in  another  life,^'  said  the  old 
man,  referring  to  them  as  he  walked  away  from  Maria 
Clara's  party. 

The  performance  began  with  Chananay  and  Marianito 
in  Crispinoe  la  Comare.  Everybody  had  eyes  and  ears 
intent  upon  the  stage,  except  one.  Father  Salvi.  He 
seemed  to  have  come  to  the  theatre  for  no  other  purpose 
than  to  watch  Maria  Clara,  whose  sadness  gave  to  her 
beauty  an  air  so  ideal  and  interesting  that  everybody 
looked  upon  her  with  rapture.  But  the  Franciscan's 
eyes,  deeply  hidden  in  their  hollow  orbits,  spoke  no  words 
of  rapture.  In  that  sombre  look  one  could  read  something 
desperately  sad.  With  such  eyes  Cain  might  have  con- 
templated from  afar  the  Paradise  whose  delights  his 
mother  had  pictured  to  him. 


Might  and  Right.  139 

The  act  was  just  ending  when  Ibarra  arrived.  His  pres- 
ence occasioned  a  buzz  of  conversation.  The  attention  of 
everybody  was  fixed  on  him  and  on  the  curate. 

But  the  young  man  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  of  it, 
for  he  greeted  Maria  Clara  and  her  friends  with  natural- 
ness and  sat  down  at  their  side.  The  only  one  who  spoke 
was  Sinang. 

"Did  you  see  the  volcano  when  they  touched  it  off?'* 
she  asked. 

"No,  my  little  friend.  I  had  to  accompany  the  Gov- 
ernor General." 

"Well,  that  is  too  bad !  The  curate  came  with  us  and 
he  was  telling  us  stories  about  condemned  people.  What 
do  you  think  ?  Doesn't  he  do  it  to  make  us  afraid  so  that 
we  cannot  enjoy  ourselves?     How  does  it  appear  to  you?'' 

The  curate  arose  and  approached  Don  Filipo,  with 
whom  he  seemed  to  be  having  a  lively  discussion.  He  was 
speaking  with  animation  and  Don  Filipo  replying  with 
moderation  and  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  please  Your  Reverence," 
said  the  latter.  "Senor  Ibarra  is  one  of  the  heaviest  tax- 
payers and  has  a  right  to  sit  here  as  long  as  he  does  not 
disturb  the  public  order." 

"But  is  not  scandalizing  good  Christians  disturbing  the 
public  order?  You  let  a  wolf  into  the  flock.  You  will 
be  held  responsible  for  this  before  God  and  before  the 
authorities  of  the  town." 

"I  always  hold  myself  responsible  for  acts  which 
emanate  from  my  own  will,  Father,"  replied  Don  Filipo, 
slightly  inclining  his  head.  "But  my  little  authority 
does  not  give  me  power  to  meddle  in  religious  affairs. 
Those  who  wish  to  avoid  contact  with  him  do  not  have  to 
speak  to  him.  Senor  Ibarra  does  not  force  himself  on 
any  one." 

"But  he  affords  danger.  He  who  loves  danger  perishes 
in  it." 

"I  don't  see  any  danger.  Father.  The  Alcalde  and  the 
Governor  General,  my  superiors,  have  been  talking  with 
him  all  the  afternoon,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  give  them 
a  lesson." 

"If  you  don't  put  him  out  of  here,  we  will  leave/' 


140  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"I  am  very,  very  sorry,  but  I  cannot  put  any  one  out  of 
here." 

The  curate  repented  having  said  what  he  did,  but  now 
there  was  no  alternative.  He  made  a  signal  to  his  com- 
panion, who  laboriously  rose  to  his  feet  and  both 
went  out.  The  persons  attached  to  the  friars  imitated 
the  priests,  not,  however,  without  first  glancing  with  hatred 
at  Ibarra. 

Murmurs  and  whispers  increased.  Then  various  per- 
sons approached  and  saluted  the  young  man  and  said: 

"We  are  with  you.     Take  no  notice  of  them.'' 

"Who  are  Hhem'f^  he  asked  with  surprise. 

"Those  who  have  gone  out  in  order  to  avoid  contact 
with  you." 

"To  avoid  contact  with  me?     Contact  with  me?'* 

"Yes,  they  say  that  you  are  excommunicated." 

Ibarra,  surprised,  did  not  know  what  to  say  and  looked 
around  him.  He  saw  Maria  Clara,  who  was  hiding  her 
face  behind  her  fan. 

"But  is  it  possible?"  he  exclaimed  at  last.  "Are  we 
still  in  the  darkness  of  the  Middle  Ages  ?     So  that " 

And  turning  to  the  young  women  and  changing  his 
tone,  he  said: 

"Excuse  me;  I  have  forgotten  an  appointment.  I  will 
return  to  accompany  you  home." 

"Stay !"  said  Sinang.  "Yeyeng  is  going  to  dance  in  the 
^La  Calandria,'     She  dances  divinely." 

"I  cannot,  my  little  friend,  but  I  will  certainly  re- 
turn." 

The  murmurs  increased. 

While  Yeyeng,  dressed  in  the  style  of  the  lower 
class  of  Madrid,  was  coming  on  the  stage  with  the  remark : 
"Z?<z  UsU  su  permisof*  (Do  you  give  your  permission?) 
and  as  Carvajal  was  replying  to  her  '^Pase  uste  adelante" 
(Pass  forward),  two  soldiers  of  the  Civil  Guard  ap- 
proached Don  Filipo,  asking  him  to  suspend  the  per- 
formance. 

"And  what  for?"  asked  he,  surprised  at  the  request. 

"Because  the  alferez  and  his  Senora  have  been  fight- 
ing and  they  cannot  sleep." 

'^ou  tell  the  alferez  that  we  have  permission  from  the 


Might  and  Right.  141 

Alcalde,  and  that  no  one  in  the  town  has  any  authority 
over  him,  not  even  the  gohernadorcillo,  who  is  my  on-ly 
su-per-ior." 

"Well,  you  will  have  to  suspend  the  performance,"  re- 
peated the  soldiers. 

Don  Filipo  turned  his  back  to  them.  The  guards 
marched  off. 

In  order  not  to  disturb  the  general  tranquillity,  Don 
Filipo  said  not  a  word  about  the  matter  to  any  one. 

After  a  piece  of  light  opera,  which  was  heartily  ap- 
plauded, the  Prince  Villardo  presented  himself  on  the 
stage,  and  challenged  all  the  Moros,  who  had  imprisoned 
his  father,  to  a  fight.  The  hero  threatened  to  cut  off  all 
their  heads  at  a  single  blow  and  to  send  them  all  to  the 
moon.  Fortunately  for  the  Moros,  who  were  making  ready 
to  fight  to  the  tune  of  the  "Eiego  Hymn,"*  a  tumult  in- 
tervened. All  of  a  sudden,  the  orchestra  stopped  play- 
ing and  the  musicians  made  a  rush  for  the  stage,  throw- 
ing their  instruments  in  all  directions.  The  brave  Vil- 
lardo was  not  expecting  such  a  move,  and,  taking  them 
for  allies  of  the  Moros  he  also  threw  down  his  sword  and 
shield  and  began  to  run.  The  Moros,  seeing  this  terrible 
giant  fleeing,  found  it  convenient  to  imitate  him.  Cries, 
sighs,  imprecations  and  blasphemies  filled  the  air.  The 
people  ran,  trampled  over  each  other,  the  lights  were  put 
out,  and  the  glass  lamps  with  their  cocoanut  oil  and  little 
wicks  were  flying  through  the  air.  "Tulisanes!  Tuli- 
sanesT  cried  some.  "Fire!  Fire!  LadronesT  cried 
others.  Women  and  children  wept,  chairs  and  spectators 
were  rolled  over  on  the  floor  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion, 
rush  and  tumult. 

"What  has  happened?" 

Two  Civil  Guards  with  sticks  in  hand  had  gone  after 
the  musicians  in  order  to  put  an  end  to  the  spectacle. 
The  teniente  mayor,  with  the  cuaderilleros,\  armed  with 
their  old  sabers,  had  managed  to  arrest  the  two  Civil 
Guards  in  spite  of  their  resistance. 

*  A  popular  Spanish  song  handed  down  from   the  time  of 
Riego's  uprising  in  Spain, 
f  Volunteer  police. 


142  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Take  them  to  the  tribunal !"  shouted  Dm  Filipo.  "Be 
careful  not  to  let  them  get  away!" 

Ibarra  had  returned  and  had  sought  out  Maria  Clara. 
The  terrified  young  maidens,  trembling  and  pale,  were 
clinging  closely  to  him.  Aunt  Isabel  was  reciting  the  lita- 
nies in  Latin. 

The  crowd  having  recovered  a  little  from  the  fright 
and  some  one  having  explained  what  had  caused  the  rush 
and  tumult,  indignation  arose  in  everyone's  breast. 
Stones  rained  upon  the  Civil  Guards  who  were  being  con- 
ducted to  the  tribunal  by  the  cuaderilleros.  Some  one 
proposed  that  they  burn  the  barracks  of  the  Civil  Guards 
and  that  they  roast  Dona  Consolacion  and  the  alferez 
alive. 

"That  is  all  that  they  are  good  for,''  cried  a  woman, 
rolling  up  her  sleeves  and  stretching  out  her  arms.  "They 
can  disturb  the  people  but  they  persecute  none  but  hon- 
orable men.  They  do  nothing  with  the  tuUsanes  and  the 
gamblers.     Look  at  them!     Let  us  burn  the  cuartel/* 

Somebody  had  been  wounded  in  the  arm  and  was  ask- 
ing for  confession.  A  plaintive  voice  was  heard  coming 
from  under  an  upset  bench.  It  was  a  poor  musician. 
The  stage  was  filled  with  the  players  and  people  of  the 
town  and  they  were  all  talking  at  the  same  time.  There 
was  Chananay,  dressed  in  the  costume  of  Leonor  in  the 
"Trovador,"  talking  in  corrupted  Spanish  with  Eatia, 
who  was  in  a  school  teacher's  costume.  There  too,  was 
Yeyeng,  dressed  in  a  silk  wrapper,  talking  with  the  Prince 
Villardo.  There  too,  Balbino  and  the  Moros,  trying  to 
console  the  musicians  who  were  more  or  less  sorry  sights. 
Some  Spaniards  were  walking  from  one  place  to  another, 
arguing  with  every  one  they  met. 

But  a  nucleus  for  a  mob  already  formed.  Don 
Filipo  knew  what  was  their  intention  and  tried  to  stop 
them. 

"Do  not  break  the  peace!"  he  shouted.  "To-morrow 
we  will  demand  satisfaction :  we  will  have  justice.  I  will 
take  the  responsibility  for  our  getting  justice.'* 

"No!"  some  replied.  "They  did  the  same  thing  in 
Calamba.     The  same  thing  was  promised^  but  the  Alcalde 


Might  and  Right.  143 

did  nothing.  We  want  justice  done  by  ouf  own  hands. 
To  the  cuarteir 

In  vain  the  teniente  mayor  argued  with  them.  The 
group  that  had  gathered  showed  no  signs  of  changing  its 
attitude  or  purpose.  Don  Filipo  looked  about  him,  in 
search  of  help.     He  saw  Ibarra. 

"Senor  Ibarra,  for  my  sake,  as  a  favor,  hold  them  while 
I  seek  some  cuaderilleros." 

"What  can  I  do?"  asked  the  young  man,  perplexed. 
But  the  teniente  mayor  was  already  in  the  distance. 

Ibarra  in  turn  looked  about  him,  for  he  knew  not 
whom.  Fortunately,  he  thought  he  discerned  Elias,  in  the 
crowd,  but  not  taking  an  active  part  in  it.  Ibarra  ran 
up  to  him,  seized  his  arm  and  said  to  him  in  Spanish: 

"For  heaven's  sake !  Do  something,  if  you  can !  I  can- 
not do  anything." 

The  pilot  must  have  understood,  for  he  lost  himself  in 
the  mob. 

Lively  discussions  were  heard  mingled  with  strong  in- 
terjections. Soon  the  mob  began  to  disperse,  each  one 
of  the  participants  becoming  less  hostile.  And  it  was 
time  for  them  to  do  so,  for  the  cuaderilleros  were  coming 
to  the  scene  with  fixed  bayonets. 

In  the  meantime,  what  was  the  curate  doing? 

Father  Salvl  had  not  gone  to  bed.  Standing  on  foot, 
immovable  and  leaning  his  face  against  the  shutter,  he 
was  looking  toward  the  plaza  and,  from  time  to  time, 
a  suppressed  sigh  escaped  his  breast.  If  the  light  of  his 
lamp  had  not  been  so  dim,  perhaps  one  might  have  seen 
that  his  eyes  were  filling  with  tears.  Thus  he  stood  for 
almost  an  hour. 

The  tumult  in  the  plaza  roused  him  from  this  state. 
Full  of  surprise,  he  followed  with  his  eyes  the  people  as 
they  rushed  to  and  fro  in  confusion.  Their  voices  and 
cries  he  could  vaguely  hear  even  at  that  distance.  One 
of  the  servants  came  running  in  breathlessly  and  informed 
him  what  was  going  on. 

A  thought  entered  his  mind.  Amid  confusion  and 
tumult  libertines  take  advantage  of  the  fright  and  the 
weakness  of  woman.  All  flee  to  save  themselves;  nobody 
thinks  of  anyone  else;  the  women  faint  and  their  cries 


144  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

are  not  heard;  they  fall;  are  trampled  over;  fear  and 
fright  overcome  modesty,  and  under  cover  of  dark- 
ness. ...  He  fancied  he  conld  see  Ibarra  carrying 
Maria  Clara  fainting  in  his  arms,  and  then  disappearing 
in  the  darkness. 

With  leaps  and  bounds,  he  went  down  the  stairs  with- 
out hat,  or  cane,  and,  almost  like  a  crazy  person,  turned 
toward  the  plaza. 

There  he  found  some  Spaniards  reproving  the  soldiers. 
He  looked  toward  the  seats  which  Maria  Clara  and  her 
friends  had  been  occupying,  and  saw  that  they  were 
vacant. 

"Father  curate!  Father  curate!"  shouted  the  Span- 
iards to  him,  but  he  took  no  notice  and  ran  on  in  the 
direction  of  the  house  of  Captain  Tiago.  There  he  re- 
covered his  breath.  He  saw  through  the  transparent 
shade,  a  shadow — that  adorable  shadow,  so  graceful  and 
delicate  in  its  contour — ^that  of  Maria  Clara.  He  could 
also  see  another  shadow,  that  of  her  aunt  carrying  cups 
and  glasses. 

"Well!"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "It  seems  that  she 
has  only  fallen  ill." 

Aunt  Isabel  afterward  closed  the  shell  windows  and 
the  graceful  shadow  could  no  longer  be  seen. 

The  curate  walked  away  from  there  without  seeing  the 
crowd.  He  was  looking  at  the  bust  of  a  beautiful  maiden 
which  he  had  before  his  eyes,  a  maiden  sleeping  and  breath- 
ing sweetly.  Her  eyelids  were  shaded  by  long  lashes, 
which  formed  graceful  curves  like  those  on  Eafael's  vir- 
gins. Her  small  mouth  was  smiling,  and  her  whole  coun- 
tenance seemed  to  breathe  virginity,  purity  and  innocence. 
That  sweet  face  of  hers  on  the  background  of  the  white 
draperies  of  the  bed  was  a  vision  like  the  head  of  a  cherubim 
among  the  clouds.  His  impassioned  imagination  went 
on  and  pictured  to  him  .  .  .  Who  can  describe  all 
that  a  burning  brain  can  conceive? 


Two  Visitors.  145 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TWO  VISITORS. 

Ibarra  found  his  mind  in  such  a  state  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  him  to  sleep.  So,  in  order  to  divert  himself 
and  to  drive  away  the  gloomy  idea  which  distracted  his 
mind,  he  began  work  in  his  solitary  laboratory.  Morn- 
ing came  upon  him,  still  at  work  making  mixtures  and 
compounds  to  the  action  of  which  he  submitted  pieces  of 
cane  and  other  substances,  and  afterward  enclosed  them 
in  numbered  and  sealed  flasks. 

A  servant  entered,  announcing  the  arrival  of  a  peas- 
ant. 

"Let  him  enter!"  said  he,  without  even  turning  to 
look. 

Elias  entered  and  remained  standing  in  silence. 

"Ah!  is  it  you?"  Ibarra  exclaimed  in  Tagalog  on 
recognizing  him.  "Excuse  me  if  I  have  kept  you  wait- 
ing. I  was  not  aware  of  your  presence.  I  was  making 
an  important  experiment." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  disturb  you!"  replied  the  young 
pilot.  "I  have  come  in  the  first  place,  to  ask  you  if 
you  want  anything  from  the  province  of  Batangas,  whither 
I  am  going  now;  and,  in  the  second  place,  to  give  you  some 
bad  news." 

Ibarra  looked  inquiringly  at  the  pilot. 

"The  daughter  of  Captain  Tiago  is  ill,"  added  Elias 
quietly,  "but  the  illness  is  not  serious." 

"I  had  already  feared  it,"  responded  Ibarra.  "Do  you 
know  what  the  illness  is?" 

"A  fever.     Now,  if  you  have  nothing  to  order '* 

"Thanks,  my  friend.  I  wish  you  a  good  journey,  but 
before  you  go,  permit  me  to  ask  you  a  question.  If  it  is 
indiscreet,  do  not  answer  me." 

Elias  bowed. 


146  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

^^How  were  you  able  to  quiet  the  mob  last  night  ?"  asked 
Ibarra,  fixing  his  eyes  on  him. 

"In  a  very  simple  way,"  replied  Elias,  with  entire  frank- 
ness. "At  the  head  of  it  were  two  brothers  whose  father 
died  from  the  effects  of  a  whipping  at  the  hands  of  the 
Civil  Guard.  One  day  I  had  the  fortune  to  save  them  from 
the  same  hands  into  which  their  father  fell,  and  for  this 
both  are  under  obligations  to  me.  Last  night  I  went 
to  them,  and  requested  them  to  dissuade  the  others  from 
their  purpose." 

"And  those  two  brothers  whose  father  died  by  being 
whipped  to  death?" 

"They  will  end  their  lives  in  the  same  way,"  replied 
Elias  in  a  low  voice.  "When  adversity  has  marked  itself 
once  on  a  family,  all  the  members  have  to  perish.  When 
the  lightning  strikes  a  tree,  it  reduces  it  all  to  ashes." 

And  Elias,  seeing  that  Ibarra  was  silent,  took  his  leave. 

The  latter  on  finding  himself  alone,  lost  the  serenity 
of  countenance  which  he  had  preserved  in  the  presence  of 
the  pilot,  and  grief  manifested  itself  in  his  face. 

"I — I  have  made  her  suffer,"  he  muttered. 

He  quickly  dressed  himself  and  descended  the  stairs. 

A  little  man,  dressed  in  mourning,  with  a  large  scar 
on  his  left  cheek,  meekly  saluted  him,  stopping  him  on 
his  way. 

"What  do  you  wish?"  Ibarra  asked  him. 

"Senor,  my  name  is  Lucas.  I  am  the  brother  of  the 
man  who  was  killed  yesterday  during  the  ceremony  when 
the  stone  was  being  laid." 

"Ah !    You  have  my  sympathy — and,  well  ?" 

^'Senor,  I  wish  to  know  how  much  you  are  going  to  pay 
my  brother's  family." 

"How  much  I  am  going  to  pay?"  repeated  the  young 
man  without  being  able  to  conceal  a  bored  expression. 
"We  will  talk  that  over.  Come  back  this  afternoon,  for 
I  am  busy  to-day." 

"Only  tell  me  how  much  you  are  going  to  pay,"  in- 
sisted Lucas. 

"I  have  told  you  that  we  would  talk  about  that  some 
other  time.  I'm  too  busy  to-day,''  said  Ibarra,  impa- 
tiently. 


Two  Visitors.  147 

"You  haven't  time  now,  senor?"  asked  Lucas  witH  bit- 
terness and  putting  himself  in  front  of  the  young  man. 
"You  do  not  have  time  to  occupy  yourself  about  the 
dead?^' 

"Come  this  afternoon,  my  good  fellow!"  repeated 
Ibarra,  restraining  himself.  "To-day  I  have  to  go  and 
see  a  sick  person." 

"Ah!  and  you  forget  the  dead  for  a  sick  person?  Do 
you  think  that  because  we  are  poor " 

Ibarra  looked  at  him  and  cut  off  what  he  was  saying. 

"Don't  try  my  patience !"  said  he,  and  went  on  his  way. 
Lucas  stood  looking  at  him,  with  a  smile  on  his  face,  fidl 
of  hatred. 

"You  do  not  know  that  you  are  a  grandson  of  the  man 
who  exposed  my  father  to  the  sun !"  he  muttered  between 
his  teeth.     'TTou  have  the  very  same  blood  in  your  veins !" 

And,  changing  his  tone  he  added: 

'^ut  if  you  pay  well,  we  are  friends." 


148  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

EPISODE    IN"    ESPADANA^S    LIFE. 

The  festival  was  over.  The  citizens  found,  just  as 
every  year,  that  their  treasury  was  poorer,  that  they  had 
worked,  perspired,  and  stayed  up  nights  without  enjoy- 
ing themselves,  without  acquiring  new  friends,  and  in  a 
word,  had  paid  dearly  for  the  noise  and  their  headaches. 
But  it  did  not  matter.  The  next  year  they  would  do  the 
same  thing,  and  the  same  for  the  coming  century,  just 
as  had  always  been  the  custom  to  the  present  time. 

Enough  sadness  reigned  in  Captain  Tiago's  house.  All 
the  windows  were  closed;  the  people  scarcely  made  a 
noise,  and  no  one  dared  to  speak  except  in  the  kitchen. 
Maria  Clara,  the  soul  of  the  house,  lay  sick  in  her  bed. 

"What  do  you  think,  Isabel?  Shall  I  make  a  donation 
to  the  cross  of  Tunasan  or  to  the  cross  of  Matahong?" 
asked  the  solicitous  father  in  a  low  voice.  "The  cross  of 
Tunason  grows,  but  that  of  Matahong  sweats.  Which  do 
you  think  is  the  most  miraculous  ?" 

Isabel  thought  for  a  moment,  moved  her  head  and 
murmured:  "To  grow — to  grow  is  more  miraculous  than 
to  sweat.     We  all  sweat,  but  we  do  not  all  grow.'' 

"That  is  true,  yes,  Isabel,  but  bear  in  mind  that  for 
wood  to  sweat  when  it  is  made  into  the  leg  of  a  chair  is 
no  small  miracle.  Well,  the  best  thing  to  do  is  to  give 
alms  to  both  crosses,  so  that  neither  will  feel  resentful, 
and  Maria  Clara  will  recover  more  quickly.  Are  the  rooms 
in  good  order?  You  know  that  a  new  senor  comes  with 
the  doctors,  a  relative  of  Father  Damaso  by  marriage. 
It  is  necessary  that  nothing  be  lacking." 

The  two  cousins,  Sinang  and  Victoria,  were  at  the 
other  end  of  the  dining-room.  They  had  come  to  keep 
company  with  the  sick  Maria.  Andeng  was  helping  them 
clean  up  a  tea  service  in  order  to  serve  tea. 


Episode  in  Espadana's  Life.  149 

"Do  you  know  Doctor  Espadana  ?"  asked  Maria  Clara's 
foster  sister,  directing  her  question  to  Victoria. 

"No !"  replied  the  latter.  "The  only  thing  that  I  know 
about  him  is  that  he  charges  very  dearly,  according  to 
Captain  Tiago." 

"Then  he  ought  to  be  very  good,"  said  Andeng.  "The 
one  who  performed  the  operation  on  the  stomach  of 
Dona  Marta  charged  a  big  price,  but  he  was  very  wise." 

"You  goose !"  exclaimed  Sinang.  "Not  all  who  charge 
high  prices  are  wise.  Look  at  Doctor  Guevara.  He  did 
not  know  how  to  aid  a  woman  in  childbirth,  but  after 
cutting  off  the  child's  head,  he  collected  one  hundred  pesos 
from  the  widower.     What  he  did  know  was  how  to  charge." 

"What  do  you  know  about  it?"  her  cousin  asked,  giv- 
ing her  a  jab  with  her  elbow. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  know  about  it?  The  husband,  who 
is  a  wood-sawyer,  after  losing  his  wife,  had  to  lose  his 
house  also,  for  the  Alcalde  was  a  friend  of  the  doctor's 
and  made  him  pay.  Why  shouldn't  I  know?  My  father 
loaned  him  money  so  that  he  could  make  a  trip  to  Santa 
Cruz." 

A  coach  stopped  before  the  house  and  cut  off  all  the 
conversation. 

Captain  Tiago,  followed  by  Aunt  Isabel,  ran  downstairs 
to  receive  the  new  arrivals.  They  were  the  doctor,  Don 
Tiburcio  de  Espadana,  his  wife,  Doctora  Dona  Victorina 
de  los  Reyes  de  de  Espadaiia;  and  a  young  Spaniard. 
The  latter  had  a  sympathetic  face  and  a  pleasing  ap- 
pearance. 

The  doctora  wore  a  silk  gown,  embroidered  with  flowers, 
and  on  her  hat,  a  large  parrot  half  crushed  among  trim- 
mings of  red  and  blue  ribbons.  The  dust  of  the  road 
had  mingled  with  the  rice  powder  on  her  cheeks,  strongly 
accentuating  her  wrinkles.  She  was  leaning  on  the  arm 
of  her  lame  husband. 

"I  have  the  pleasure  to  present  to  you  our  cousin,  Don 
Alfonso  Linares  de  Espadana,"  said  Dona  Yictorina, 
pointing  toward  the  young  man.  "The  gentleman  is  a 
god-son  of  a  relative  of  Father  Damaso,  and  is  private 
secretary  to  all  the  ministers." 


150  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

The  young  man  bowed  gracefully.  Captain  Tiago  al- 
most kissed  his  hand. 

Dona  Victorina  was  a  woman  of  about  forty-five 
summers,  which,  according  to  her  arithmetical  calcula- 
tions, was  equivalent  to  thirty-two  springs.  She  had  been 
pretty  in  her  youth,  but,  raging  over  her  own  beauty,  she 
had  looked  with  disdain  on  many  Filipino  adorers,  for  her 
aspirations  were  for  the  other  race.  She  had  not  cared 
to  entrust  her  little  white  hand  to  anybody,  but  this  not 
on  account  of  lack  of  confidence  on  her  part,  for  she  had 
entrusted  rings  and  jewels  of  inestimable  value  to  various 
foreign  adventurers. 

Six  months  before  the  time  of  the  happenings  of  which 
we  are  writing,  she  saw  her  beautiful  dream  realized, 
that  dream  of  her  whole  life,  on  account  of  which  she 
had  disdained  all  manner  of  flattery  and  even  the  promises 
of  love,  which  had  been  cooed  into  her  ears,  or  sung  in 
serenades  by  Captain  Tiago.  Late,  it  is  true,  she  had  re- 
alized her  dream ;  but  she  knew  well  the  proverb — "Better 
late  than  never,"  and  consoled  herself  by  repeating  it 
again  and  again.  "There  is  no  complete  happiness  on 
this  earth,"  was  her  other  favorite  proverb,  but  neither  of 
these  ever  passed  her  lips  in  the  presence  of  other  people. 

Dona  Yictorina,  after  passing  her  first,  second,  third 
and  fourth  youth  in  fishing  in  the  sea  of  men  for  the  ob- 
ject of  her  dreams,  had  at  last  to  content  herself  with 
what  fortune  cared  to  give  her.  The  poor  little  woman, 
if  she,  instead  of  having  passed  thirty-two  springs,  had  not 
passed  more  than  thirty-one — the  difference  according  to 
her  arithmetic  was  very  great — would  have  thrown  back 
the  prize  which  Destiny  offered  her,  and  preferred  to  wait 
for  another  more  in  conformity  with  her  tastes.  But,  as 
the  man  proposed  and  necessity  disposed  it  so,  for  she 
needed  a  husband  very  badly,  she  was  compelled  to  con- 
tent herself  with  a  poor  man,  who  had  been  driven  by 
necessity  to  leave  the  Province  of  Estremadura  in  Spain. 
He,  after  wandering  about  the  world  for  six  or  seven 
months,  a  modern  IJlysses,  found  at  last  in  the  island 
of  Luzon,  hospitality,  money,  and  a  faded  Calypso,  his 
better  half — ^but  alas!  a  bitter  half.  He  was  known  as 
the  unhappy  Tiburcio  Espadana,  and,  although  he  was 


Episode  in  Espadana's  Life.  151 

thirty-five  years  old  and  seemed  even  older,  he  was,  how- 
ever, younger  than  Dona  Victorina,  who  was  only  thirty- 
two. 

He  had  come  to  the  Philippines  in  the  capacity  of  clerk 
in  the  custom  house,  but  after  all  the  sea-sickness  of  the 
voyage  and  after  fracturing  a  leg  on  the  way,  he  had  the 
bad  luck  to  receive  his  discharge  fifteen  days  after  his 
arrival.     He  was  left  without  a  single  cuarto. 

Distrusting  the  sea,  he  did  not  wish  to  return  to  Spain 
without  having  made  a  fortune.  So  he  decided  to  de- 
vote himself  to  something.  Spanish  pride  did  not  permit 
him  to  do  any  manual  labor.  The  poor  man  would  have 
worked  with  pleasure  to  have  earned  an  honorable  liv- 
ing, but  the  prestige  of  the  Spaniard  did  not  permit  this, 
nor  did  that  prestige  provide  him  with  the  necessities  of 
life. 

At  first  he  lived  at  the  expense  of  some  of  his  coun- 
trymen, but,  as  Tiburcio  had  some  self-respect,  the  bread 
was  sour  to  him,  and  instead  of  getting  fat  he  grew  thin. 
As  he  had  neither  knowledge  of  any  science,  money  nor 
recommendations,  his  countrymen,  in  order  to  get  rid  of 
him,  advised  him  to  go  to  some  of  the  provinces  and  pass 
himself  off  as  a  Doctor  of  Medicine.  At  first,  he  did  not 
like  the  idea,  and  opposed  the  plan,  for  although  he  had  been 
a  servant  in  the  San  Carlos  Hospital,  he  had  not  learned 
anything  about  the  science  of  healing,  his  duty  having 
been  to  dust  off  the  benches  and  light  the  fires,  and,  even  in 
this  work,  he  had  served  only  a  short  time.  But  as  neces- 
sity was  pressing  him  hard,  and  as  his  friends  pointed  out 
the  vanity  of  his  scruples,  he  took  their  advice,  went  into 
the  provinces  and  began  to  visit  the  sick,  charging  as  much 
for  his  services  as  his  conscience  permitted.  Later  on  he 
began  to  charge  dearly  and  to  put  a  high  price  on  his 
visits.  On  this  account,  he  was  at  once  taken  to  be  a 
great  doctor  and  would  probably  have  made  his  fortune, 
had  not  the  attention  of  the  Protective  Medical  Society 
of  Manila,  been  called  to  his  exorbitant  charges  and  to 
his  harmful  competition. 

Private  citizens  and  professors  interceded  in  his  be- 
half. "Man!"  said  the  zealous  Doctor  C.  in  speaking 
of  him.     "Let  him  make  his  little  money.     Let  him  make 


152  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

his  little  six  or  seven  thousand  pesos.  He  will  be  able  to 
return  to  his  native  land  then  and  live  in  peace.  What 
does  it  matter  to  you?  Let  him  deceive  the  unwary  na- 
tives. Then  they  may  become  smarter.  He  is  a  poor, 
unhappy  fellow.  Do  not  take  the  bread  from  his  mouth. 
Be  a  good  Spaniard!" 

Doctor  C.  was  a  good  Spaniard  and  he  winked  at  the 
matter.  But  when  the  facts  reached  the  ears  of  the 
people,  they  began  to  lose  confidence  in  him,  and  little 
l3y  little  Don  Tiburcio  Espadana  lost  his  clientage,  and 
found  himself  almost  obliged  to  beg  for  bread  day  by 
day.  Then  it  was  that  he  learned  from  a  friend  of  his, 
who  was  also  a  friend  of  Dona  Victorina  about  the  posi- 
tion of  that  woman,  and  about  her  patriotism  and  good 
heart.  Don  Tiburcio  saw  in  her  a  bit  of  blue  sky  and 
asked  to  be  presented. 

Dona  Victorina  and  Don  Tiburcio  met.  Tarde  venienti- 
hus  ossa,  he  would  have  exclaimed  if  he  had  known  Latin. 
She  was  no  longer  passable,  she  was  past.  Her  abundant 
hair  had  been  reduced  to  a  wad  about  the  size  of  an 
onion  top,  as  the  servants  were  wont  to  describe  it.  Her 
face  was  full  of  wrinkles  and  her  teeth  had  begun  to 
loosen.  Her  eyes  had  also  suffered,  and  considerably,  too. 
She  had  to  squint  frequently  when  she  cared  to  look  off  at 
a  certain  distance.  Her  character  was  the  only  thing  that 
had  remained  unchanged. 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour's  conversation,  they  came  to 
an  understanding  and  accepted  each  other.  She  would 
have  preferred  a  Spaniard  less  lame,  less  of  a  stammerer, 
less  bald,  one  with  more  teeth,  one  of  more  rank  and  social 
standing,  or  categoria,  as  she  called  it.  But  this  class  of 
Spaniards  never  came  to  ask  her  hand.  She  had  heard, 
too,  more  than  once  that  "opportunity  is  bald,^'  and  she 
honestly  believed  that  Don  Tiburcio  was  that  very  oppor- 
tunity, for  on  account  of  his  dark  days  he  had  prema- 
turely lost  his  hair.  What  woman  is  not  prudent  at 
thirty-two  ? 

Don  Tiburcio,  for  his  part,  felt  a  vague  melancholy 
when  he  thought  of  his  honeymoon.  He  smiled  with 
resignation  especially  when  he  called  the  phantom  of 
hunger  to  his  aid.     He  had  never  had  ambition  or  pre- 


Episode  in  Espadana's  Life.  153 

tensions.  His  tastes  were  simple,  his  thoughts  limited; 
but  his  heart,  untouched  till  then,  had  dreamed  of  a  very 
different  divinity.  In  his  youth  when,  tired  by  his  day's 
labor,  after  a  frugal  meal,  he  lay  down  on  a  poor  bed, 
he  dreamed  of  a  smiling,  affectionate  image.  Afterward, 
when  his  sorrows  and  privations  increased,  the  years  passed 
and  his  poetical  dreams  were  not  fulfilled,  he  thought 
merely  of  a  good  woman,  a  willing  hand,  a  worker,  who 
might  afford  him  a  small  dowry,  console  him  when  tired 
from  labor,  and  quarrel  with  him  from  time  to  time. 
Yes,  he  was  thinking  of  the  quarrels  as  a  happiness !  But 
when,  obliged  to  wander  from  country  to  country,  in 
search  no  longer  of  a  fortune,  but  of  some  commodity  to 
sustain  his  life  for  the  remainder  of  his  days;  when, 
deluded  by  the  accounts  of  his  countr3rmen  who  came  from 
beyond  the  seas,  he  embarked  for  the  Philippines — ^then 
the  vision  of  a  housekeeper  gave  way  to  an  image  of  an 
arrogant  mestiza,  a  beautiful  native  with  large  black 
eyes,  draped  in  silks  and  transparent  garments,  loaded  with 
diamonds  and  gold,  offering  him  her  love  and  her 
carriages. 

He  arrived  in  the  Philippines  and  believed  that  he 
was  about  to  realize  his  dream,  for  the  young  women  who, 
in  silver-plated  carriages,  frequented  the  Luneta  and  the 
Malecon,  Manila's  popular  and  fashionable  drives, 
looked  at  him  with  a  certain  curiosity.  Later,  when  this 
curiosity  on  their  part  had  ceased,  the  mestiza  disappeared 
from  his  dreams,  and  with  great  labor  he  formed  in  his 
mind  a  picture  of  a  widow,  but  an  agreeable  widow.  So 
it  was  that  when  he  saw  only  part  of  his  dream  taking  on 
real  form,  he  became  sad.  But  he  was  somewhat  of  a 
philosopher  and  said  to  himself:  "That  was  a  dream,  but 
in  the  world  one  does  not  live  in  dreams."  Thus  he 
settled  all  his  doubts;  she  wasted  a  lot  of  rice  powder  on 
her  cheeks.  Pshaw!  When  they  were  once  married  he 
would  make  her  stop  that  easily  enough;  she  had  many 
wrinkles  in  her  face,  but  his  coat  had  more  bare  spots 
and  patches;  she  was  old,  pretentious,  and  imperious,  but 
hunger  was  more  imperious,  and  still  more  pretentious; 
and  then,  too,  he  had  a  sweet  disposition,  and,  who 
could  tell? — love  modifies    character;  she    spoke    Span- 


154  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ish  very  badly,  but  he  himself  did  not  speak  it  well; 
at  least,  the  head  of  the  Customs  department  had  so 
notified  him  in  his  discharge  from  his  position,  and  be- 
sides, what  did  it  matter?  What  if  she  was  old  and 
ridiculous?  He  was  lame,  toothless  and  bald.  When 
some  friend  jested  with  him,  he  would  respond :  "Give  me 
bread  and  call  me  a  fool/' 

Don  Tiburcio  was  what  is  vulgarly  called  a  man  who 
would  not  harm  a  fly.  He  was  modest  and  incapable  of 
conceiving  an  evil  thought.  He  would  have  made  a  good 
missionary  had  he  lived  in  olden  times.  His  stay  in  the 
country  had  not  given  him  that  conviction  of  his  own 
superiority,  of  his  own  worth,  and  of  his  high  impor- 
tance, which  the  larger  part  of  his  countrymen  acquire  in 
a  few  weeks  in  the  Philippines.  His  heart  had  never 
been  able  to  conceive  hatred  for  anybody  or  anything. 
He  had  not  yet  been  able  to  find  a  revolutionist.  He 
only  looked  upon  the  people  as  unhappy  beings  whom 
it  was  fitting  for  him  to  deprive  of  a  little  of  their  wealth 
in  order  to  prevent  himself  becoming  even  more  unhappy 
than  they.  When  they  tried  to  make  a  case  against  him 
for  passing  as  a  doctor  without  a  proper  license,  he  did 
not  resent  it,  he  did  not  complain.  He  saw  the  justice  of 
the  case,  and  only  replied :  "But  it  is  necessary  to  live !" 

So  they  were  married  and  went  to  Santa  Ana  to  pass 
their  honeymoon.  But  on  the  night  of  the  wedding  Dona 
Victorina  had  a  bad  attack  of  indigestion.  Don  Tiburcio 
gave  thanks  to  God  and  showed  solicitude  and  care.  On 
the  second  night,  however,  he  conducted  himself  like  an 
honorable  man,  but  on  the  day  following,  when  he  looked 
in  the  mirror  at  his  bare  gums,  he  smiled  with  melancholy : 
he  had  grown  ten  years  older  at  least. 

Dona  Victorina,  charmed  with  her  husband,  had  a  good 
set  of  front  teeth  made  for  him,  and  had  the  best  tailors 
in  the  city  dress  and  equip  him.  She  ordered  carriages 
and  calesas,  sent  to  Batangas  and  Albay  provinces  for  the 
finest  spans  of  horses,  and  even  obliged  him  to  make  two 
entries  in  the  coming  horse  races. 

In  the  meantime,  while  she  was  transforming  her  hus- 
band, she  did  not  forget  xier  own  person.  She  laid  aside 
the  silk  saya  or  Filipino  skirt  and  'pifia  cloth  bodice,  for 


Episode  in  Espadana's  Life.  155 

a  dress  of  European  style.  She  substituted  false  curls 
in  front  for  the  simple  hair  dress  of  the  Filipinos.  Her 
dresses,  which  fitted  her  '^divinely  bad,"  disturbed  the 
peace  and  tranquillity  of  the  entire  neighborhood. 

The  husband  never  went  out  of  the  house  afoot — she 
did  not  want  people  to  see  that  he  was  lame.  He  always 
took  her  for  drives  through  the  places  most  deserted,  much 
to  her  pain,  for  she  wanted  to  display  her  husband  on 
the  drives  most  frequented  by  the  public.  But  out  of 
respect  for  their  honejrmoon,  she  kept  silent. 

The  last  quarter  of  the  honeymoon  had  just  begun 
when  he  wanted  to  stop  her  from  using  rice  powder  on 
her  cheeks,  saying  to  her  that  it  was  false  and  not  natural. 
Dona  Victorina  frowned  and  looked  squarely  at  his  front 
set  of  teeth.  He  at  once  became  «ilent,  and  she  learned 
his  weakness. 

She  soon  got  the  idea  that  she  was  to  become  a  mother 
and  made  the  following  announcement  to  all  her  friends: 
"Next  month,  we,  I  and  de  Espadana  are  going  to  the 
Peninsula.*  I  don't  want  to  have  my  son  born  here  and 
have  them  call  him  a  revolutionist.'' 

She  added  a  de  to  her  husband's  name.  The  de  did 
not  cost  anything  and  gave  categoria  to  the  name.  When 
she  signed  herself,  she  wrote  Victorina  de  los  Keyes  de 
de  Espadana.  That  de  de  Espadana  was  her  mania. 
Neither  the  lithographer  who  printed  her  cards,  nor  her 
husband,  could  get  the  idea  out  of  her  head. 

"If  I  do  not  put  more  than  one  de  in  the  name  people 
will  think  that  I  haven't  it,  fool!"  said  she  to  her  hus- 
band. 

She  was  talking  continually  about  her  preparations  for 
the  voyage  to  Spain.  She  learned  by  memory  the  names 
of  the  points  where  the  steamers  called,  and  it  was  a 
pleasure  to  hear  her  talk — "I  am  going  to  see  the  sismus 
of  the  Suez  Canal.  De  Espadana  thinks  that  it  is  the 
most  beautiful,  and  De  Espadana  has  seen  the  whole 
world." — "I  will  probably  never  return  to  this  land  of 
savages." — "I  was  not  born  to  live  here.  Aden  or  Port 
Said  would  be  more  suitable  for    me.     I    have    always 

*  A  wrong  pronunciation  of  the  Spanish  Peninsula  meaning 
Spain . 


156  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

thought  so  since  I  was  a  child/'  Dona  Vict^rlna,  in  her 
geography,  divided  the  world  into  two  parts,  the  Philip- 
pines and  Spain.  In  this  she  differed  from  the  lower 
class  of  people  in  Madrid  for  they  divide  it  into  Spain 
and  America,  or  Spain  and  China,  America  and  China 
being  merely  different  names  for  tlie  same  country. 

The  husband  knew  that  some  of  these  things  were  bar- 
barisms, but  he  kept  silent  so  that  she  would  not  mock 
him  and  twit  him  with  his  stammering.  She  feigned  to 
be  whimsical  in  order  to  increase  her  illusion  that  she 
was  a  mother,  and  she  began  to  dress  herself  in  colors, 
adorn  herself  with  flowers  and  ribbons,  and  to  walk 
through  the  Escolta  in  a  wrapper.  But  oh!  what  an  il- 
lusion! Three  months  passed  and  the  dream  vanished. 
By  this  time,  having  no  fear  that  her  son  would  be  a  Tevo-» 
lutionist,  she  gave  up  the  voyage.  She  consulted  doc- 
tors, mid-wives  and  old  women,  but  all  in  vain.  To 
the  great  displeasure  of  Captain  Tiago  she  made  fun  of 
San  Pascual  Bailon,  as  she  did  not  care  to  run  to  any 
saint.  On  account  of  this  a  friend  of  her  huband  told 
her: 

^'Believe  me,  Senora,  you  are  the  only  espiritu  fuerte 
(strong-minded  person)    in  this  country." 

She  smiled  without  understanding  what  espiritu  fuerte 
meant,  but,  at  night,  when  it  was  time  to  be  sleeping,  sh3 
asked  her  husband  about  it. 

"Daughter,'^  replied  he,  '^the  e — espir — espiritu  most 
fu-fuerte  that  I  know — know  about  is  a — a — ammonia. 
My  fr-fr-friend  must  have  be-been  us-using  a  figure  of 
rhetoric." 

From  that  time  on,  she  was  always  saying,  whenever 
she  could,  "I  am  the  only  ammonia  in  this  country,  speak- 
ing rhetorically,  as  Sehor  N.  de  'N.  who  is  from  the  Pen- 
insula and  who  has  much  categoria,  puts  it." 

Whatever  she  said  had  to  be  done.  She  had  come  to 
dominate  her  husband  completely.  On  his  part,  he  of- 
fered no  great  resistance,  and  was  converted  into  a  little 
lap  dog  for  her.  If  he  incommoded  her  she  would  not  let 
him  go  out  for  a  drive,  and  when  she  became  really  in- 
furiated, she  would  snatch  out  his  false  teeth  and  leave 


Episode  in  Espadana's  Life.  157 

him  a  horrible-looking  man  for  one  or  more  days,  ac- 
cording to  the  offense. 

It  occurred  to  her  that  her  husband  ought  to  be  a  Doc- 
tor of  Medicine  and  Surgery,  and  so  she  expressed  herself 
to  him. 

"Daughter !  Do  you  want  them  to  arrest  me  ?"  he  said, 
frightened. 

"Don't  be  a  fool.  Let  me  arrange  it!"  she  replied. 
"You  are  not  going  to  attend  any  one,  but  I  want  them 
to  call  you  a  doctor  and  me  a  doctoral  eh?" 

And  on  the  following  day  Rodoreda,  a  prominent  mar- 
ble dealer  in  Manila,  received  an  order  for  the  following 
engraving  on  black  marble:  Dr.  De  Espadana,  Spe- 
cialist IN  All  Kinds  of  Diseases. 

All  of  the  servants  had  to  give  them  their  new  titles, 
and,  in  consequence  of  it  all,  she  increased  the  number 
of  her  curls  in  front,  the  layer  of  rice  powder,  the  ribbons 
and  laces,  and  looked  with  more  disdain  than  ever  on  the 
poor  and  less  fortunate  women  of  her  country,  who  had 
less  categoria  than  she.  Each  day  she  felt  herself  more 
dignified  and  elevated,  and,  following  along  this  road, 
in  less  than  a  year  she  would  think  herself  of  divine 
origin. 

These  sublime  thoughts,  however,  did  not  prevent  her 
from  growing  more  ridiculous  and  older  each  day.  Every 
time  that  Captain  Tiago  met  her  in  the  street  and  remem- 
bered that  he  had  once  made  love  to  her  in  vain,  he  would 
go  at  once  to  the  church  and  give  a  peso  for  a  mass  as  a 
thank  offering  for  his  good  luck  in  not  marrying  her. 
In  spite  of  this,  Captain  Tiago  highly  respected  her  hus- 
band, on  account  of  his  title  of  "specialist  in  all  kinds  of 
diseases,"  and  he  listened  with  close  attention  to  the  few 
phrases  that  he  managed  to  stutter  out.  In  fact,  it  was 
on  account  of  this  title  and  the  fact  that  the  doctor  did 
not  attend  everybody,  that  the  Captain  chose  him  to  at- 
tend his  daughter. 

As  to  the  young  man  Linares,  it  is  a  different  story. 
When  she  was  making  ready  for  her  voyage  to  Spain, 
Dona  Victorina  thought  of  having  an  administrator  from 
the  Peninsula  to  look  after  her  affairs,  for  she  did  not 
trust  Filipinos.     Her  husband  remembered  a  nephew  in 


158  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Madrid  who  was  studying  to  become  a  lawyer,  and  who 
was  considered  the  smartest  one  in  his  family.  They 
wrote  to  him,  then,  sending  him  in  advance  money  for  the 
passage,  and,  when  the  dream  was  dispelled,  the  young 
man  was  already  on  his  way. 

These  are  the  three  persons  who  had  just  arrived. 

While  they  were  eating  their  breakfast,  Father  Salvi 
arrived,  and,  as  the  husband  and  wife  had  already  met  the 
friar,  they  presented  him  to  the  young  Linares,  with 
all  his  titles.     The  young  man  blushed. 

As  was  natural  they  spoke  of  Maria  Clara.  The  young 
maiden  was  resting  and  sleeping.  They  talked  over  the 
voyage.  Dona  Victorina  showed  her  verbosity  by  criti- 
cising the  customs  of  the  provinces,  the  nipa  houses,  the 
bamboo  bridges,  without  forgetting  to  tell  the  curate 
about  her  friendship  with  the  Commander  of  the  Army, 
the  Alcalde  so  and  so.  Judge  so  and  so  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  and  with  the  governor  of  the  province,  all  persons 
of  categoria,  who  had  much  consideration  for  her. 

"If  you  had  come  two  days  before.  Dona  Victorina," 
replied  Captain  Tiago  during  a  short  pause,  "you  would 
have  met  His  Excellency,  the  Governor  General.  He  sat 
right  there.'' 

"What?  How's  that?  Was  His  Excellency  here? 
And  in  your  house  ?    A  lie !" 

"I  tell  you  he  sat  right  there.  If  you  had  come  two 
days  before " 

"Ah!  What  a  shame  that  little  Clara  did  not  fall 
sick  before!"  exclaimed  she,  in  real  sorrow.  And  direct- 
ing herself  to  Linares:  "Do  you  hear,  cousin?  His  Ex- 
cellency was  here !  You  see  De  Espadana  was  right  when 
he  told  you  that  we  were  not  going  to  the  house  of  a  mis- 
erable native.  For  you  should  know,  Don  Santiago,  that 
our  cousin  was  a  friend  of  all  the  Ministers  in  Madrid 
and  all  the  Dukes,  and  he  dined  in  the  house  of  Count 
del  Campanario  (belfry)/' 

"Duke  de  la  Torre  (tower),  Victorina,"  said  her  hus- 
band, correcting  her. 

"It  amounts  to  the  same  thing.  Do  you  think  you 
can  tell  me  that " 

^'Would  I  find  Father  Damaso  in  town  to-day?"  in- 


Episode  in  Espadana's  Life.  159 

terrupted  Linares,  turning  to  Father  Salvi.     "They  have 
told  me  that  he  is  near  here." 

"He  is,  precisely,  and  will  come  here  in  a  little  while/' 
replied  the  curate. 

"How  glad  I  am !  I  have  a  letter  for  him/'  exclaimed 
the  young  man.  "And  if  it  had  not  been  for  this  happy 
chance  which  brought  me  here,  I  would  have  come,  ex- 
pressly to  visit  him.'' 

"The  happy  chance — that  is,  Maria  Clara — ^had,  in  the 
meantime  awakened." 

"De  Espadana!"  said  Dona  Yictorina,  finishing  her 
breakfast.  "Are  we  going  to  see  little  Clara?"  And 
turning  to  Captain  Tiago,  "For  you  only,  Don  Santiago; 
for  you  alone!  My  husband  does  not  treat  anybody  ex- 
cept people  of  categoria,  and  he  even  refuses  some  of 
them !  My  husband  is  not  like  those  about  here — ^in 
Madrid  he  only  visited  people  of  categoria" 

They  passed  into  the  sick  room. 

The  room  was  almost  dark.  The  windows  were  shut 
for  fear  of  a  draught,  and  the  little  light  which  illumi- 
nated the  room  came  from  the  two  wax  candles  which 
were  burning  in  front  of  an  image  of  the  Virgin  of  Anti- 
polo. 

Her  head  wrapped  up  in  a  handkerchief,  saturated  in 
cologne  water,  her  body  wrapped  in  wide  folds  of  white 
sheets  which  outlined  her  virginal  form,  the  sick  maiden 
lay  on  her  bed  of  kamakon  *  among  jusi  and  pifia  cur- 
tains. Her  hair,  forming  a  frame  around  her  oval  face, 
increased  her  transparent  paleness,  which  was  animated 
only  by  her  large  eyes  full  of  sadness.  At  her  side  were 
her  two  friends  and  Andeng. 

De  Espadana  felt  of  her  pulse,  examined  her  tongue, 
asked  some  questions,  and  shaking  his  head  seriously,  said : 

"Sh-sh-she  is  si-sick.  But  we-we-we  can  cu-cu-cure 
her." 

Dona  Victorina  looked  with  pride  at  those  around 
her. 

"A  li-lichen  in  mil-milk  in  the-the  morning;  syrup 
of  marsh  marsh-mal-mallow,  tw-o — two  hounds' — ^hounds' 
tongue  pi-pills/'  ordered  De  Espadana. 

*  A  costly  and  rich  wood  like  ebony. 


160  Friars  and  Filipinos." 

"Take  courage,  little  Clara/*  said  Dona  Yictorina,  ap- 
proaching her.  "We  have  come  to  cure  you.  I  am  going 
to  present  our  cousin  to  you." 

Linares  was  absorbed,  contemplating  those  eloquent  eyes 
which  seemed  to  be  seeking  some  one,  and  he  did  not  hear 
Doiia  Victorina  call  him. 

"Seiior  Linares,"  said  the  curate,  calling  him  out  of 
his  ecstacy.     "Here  comes  Father  Damaso." 

In  fact.  Father  Damaso  was  coming,  pale  and  some- 
what sad.  On  leaving  his  bed,  his  first  visit  was  to  Maria 
Clara.  He  was  no  longer  the  Father  Damaso  that  he 
had  been,  so  robust  and  talkative.  He  now  walked  along 
in  silence  and  .with  unsteady  footsteps. 


Schemes.  161 


CHAPTEK  XXV. 

SCHEMES. 

Without  paying  attention  to  anybody,  Father  Damaso 
went  straight  to  the  sick  room  and  took  hold  of  Maria's 
hand. 

"Maria!"  said  he,  with  indescribable  tenderness,  as 
tears  dropped  from  his  eyes.  "Maria,  my  child,  you  are 
not  going  to  die  V' 

Maria  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him  with  sur- 
prise. 

None  who  knew  the  Franciscan  suspected  that  he  ever 
had  such  tender  thoughts.  No  one  ever  supposed  that  a 
heart  existed  under  that  gross  and  rude  aspect. 

Father  Damaso  could  say  no  more  and  left  the  maiden, 
weeping  like  a  child.  He  went  out  through  the  room  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  to  give  free  vent  to  his  grief,  on 
Maria  Clara's  balcony  under  her  favorite  vines. 

"How  he  loves  his  god-daughter!"  thought  they  all. 

Father  Salvi  witnessed  the  scene,  immovable  and  silent, 
lightly  biting  his  lips. 

When  his  grief  was  somewhat  soothed.  Father  Damaso 
was  introduced  by  Dona  Victorina  to  the  young  Linares, 
who  approached  the  friar  with  respect. 

Father  Damaso  gazed  at  him  in  silence  from  head  to 
foot.  He  took  the  letter  which  the  young  man  handed 
to  him  and  read  it  apparently  without  understanding  it, 
for  he  asked  him: 

"And  who  are  you?" 

"Alfonso  Linares,  the  god-son  of  your  brother-in-law," 
stammered  the  young  man. 

Father  Damaso  leaned  back  and  examined  the  young 
man  again.  His  face  brightened  up  and  he  rose  to  his 
feet. 

"And  so  you  are  the  god-son  of  little  Charles!"  he  ex- 


162  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

claimed.  "Come  here  and  let  me  embrace  you.  It  was 
some  days  ago  that  I  received  your  letter.  So  it  is  you! 
I  did  not  know  you — ^but  that  is  easily  explained,  for  you 
were  not  yet  born  when  I  left  the  country.  I  never  knew 
you.^' 

And  Father  Damaso  stretched  out  his  robust  arms  to 
the  young  man  who  blushed,  either  from  shame  or  suf- 
focation. Father  Damaso  seemed  to  have  completely  for- 
gotten his  grief. 

After  the  first  moments  of  effusion  had  passed,  and 
questions  had  been  asked  about  Carlicos,  as  he  called  little 
Charles,  Father  Damaso  asked: 

"Well.     What  does  Carlicos  want  me  to  do  for  you?" 

"I  believe  he  says  something  in  the  letter,"  stammered 
Linares  again. 

"In  the  letter?  Let  us  see.  'Tis  so!  And  he  wants 
me  to  get  you  a  job  and  a  wife!  Hm!  Employment — 
employment:  that  is  easy.  Do  you  know  how  to  read 
and  write?" 

"I  have  graduated  in  law  from  the  Central  Univer- 
sity.'^ 

^'Caranibas!  So  you  are  a  pettifogger?  Well,  you 
don't  look  it — ^you  look  more  like  a  young  gentleman. 
But  so  much  the  better!  But  to  find  you  a  wife — ^hm! 
hm!  a  wife." 

"Father,  I  am  not  in  a  hurry  about  it,"  said  Linares, 
confused. 

But  Father  Damaso  began  to  walk  from  one  end  of 
the  room  to  the  other,  muttering:  "A  wife!     A  wife!" 

His  face  by  this  time  was  no  longer  sad,  nor  was  it 
cheerful.  It  expressed  the  greatest  seriousness  and  he 
seemed  to  be  meditating.  Father  Salvi  surveyed  the  scene 
from  a  distance. 

"I  did  not  believe  that  it  could  give  me  such  pain," 
murmured  Father  Damaso  in  a  mournful  voice.  "But  of 
two  evils  the  lesser." 

And  raising  his  voice  and  approaching  Linares,  he 
said: 

"Come  here,  my  boy!     We  will  speak  with  Santiago." 

Linares  turned  pale  and  allowed  himself  to  be  led 
along  by  the  priest,  who  was  deep  in  thought. 


Schemes.  163 

TEen  it  was  Father  Salvfs  turn  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  room  and  he  did  so,  meditating,  as  was  his  custom. 

A  voice  bidding  him  good  morning  stopped  his  monot- 
onous tread.  He  raised  his  head  and  his  eyes  met  Lucas, 
who  saluted  him  humbly. 

'^hat  do  you  want?"  asked  the  eyes  of  the  curate. 

"Father,  I  am  the  brother  of  the  man  who  was  killed 
on  the  day  of  the  fiesta,"  replied  Lucas,  in  a  tearful 
tone. 

Father  Salvi  stepped  back. 

"And  what  of  it?"  he  muttered,  in  an  unintelligible 
voice. 

Lucas  made  an  ejffort  to  weep,  and  dried  his  eyes  with 
his  handkerchief. 

"Father,"  said  he,  crying,  "I  have  been  to  Crisosto- 
mo's  house  to  ask  him  for  indemnity.  At  first,  he  re- 
ceived me  with  kicks,  saying  that  he  would  not  pay  any- 
thing, since  he  had  run  the  risk  of  being  killed  through 
the  fault  of  my  dear,  unfortunate  brother.  Yesterday, 
I  went  to  talk  with  him  again,  but  he  had  already  left 
for  Manila,  leaving  me  for  charity's  sake  five  hundred 
pesos  for  my  poor  brother — five  hundred  pesos — ah! 
Father." 

The  curate  listened  to  the  first  part  of  his  story  with 
surprise  and  attention,  but  slowly  there  appeared  on  his 
lips  a  smile — a  smile  of  such  contempt  and  sarcasm  at 
the  comedy  that  was  being  played,  that  if  Lucas  had  seen 
it  he  would  have  fled  in  all  haste. 

"And  what  do  you  want  now?"  he  asked,  turning  his 
back  to  him. 

"Alas!  Father,  for  love  of  God  tell  me  what  I  ought 
to  do.     Father,  you  have  always  given  good  advice." 

"Who  has  told  you  that?     You  do  not  live  here." 

"But  the  whole  province  knows  you.  Father!" 

Father  Salvi  went  up  to  him  with  his  eyes  full  of  anger 
and,  motioning  to  the  street,  said  to  the  frightened 
Lucas : 

"Go  to  your  house  and  give  thanks  to  Don  Crisostomo 
that  he  has  not  sent  you  to  jail.     Get  away  from  here." 

Forgetting  his  role,  Lucas  muttered; 

^^ell,  I  thought " 


164  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Out  of  here!"  cried  Father  Salvi,  in  a  nervous  tone. 

"I  want  to  see  Father  Damaso/' 

"Father  Damaso  is  busy.  Out  of  here!"  ordered  the 
curate,  in  an  imperative  tone,  again. 

Lucas  went  down  the  stairs  murmuring:  "He  is  an- 
other.    How  poorly  he  pays  !     He  who  pays  better.    .    .    ." 

The  voice  of  the  curate  had  reached  the  ears  of  all 
in  the  house,  even  Father  Damaso,  Captain  Tiago  and 
Linares. 

"An  insolent  beggar  who  came  to  ask  alms  and  doesn't 
want  to  work,"  said  Father  Salvi,  taking  his  hat  and  cane 
and  starting  toward  the  convent. 


The  Persecuted.  165 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

THE  PERSECUTED. 

By  the  dim  light  which  the  moon  diffused  through  the 
thick  branches  of  the  trees,  a  man  wandered  along  the 
forest  trails  slowly  and  cautiously.  From  time  to  time, 
as  if  to  find  out  where  he  was,  he  whistled  a  particular 
melody,  to  which  another  in  the  distance  responded  with 
the  same  air.  The  man  listened  attentively,  and  after- 
ward proceeded  in  the  direction  of  the  distant  sound. 

Finally,  passing  through  the  thousand  difficulties  which 
a  virgin  forest  offers  in  the  night  time,  he  came  to  a  small 
clearing.  High  rocks,  crowned  with  trees,  surrounded  the 
place,  forming  a  sort  of  ruined  amphitheatre.  Recently 
cut  trees,  with  their  charred  trunks  and  enormous  rocks, 
which  Nature  had  covered  with  her  mantle  of  green  foli- 
age, filled  the  middle  of  the  open  space. 

Scarcely  had  the  unknown  man  arrived,  when  another 
figure  quickly  appeared  from  behind  one  of  the  large  rocks, 
advanced  and  drew  a  revolver. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  asked  in  Tagalog  and,  in  an  im- 
perious voice,  as  he  cocked  the  hammer  of  his  weapon. 

"Is  old  Pablo  among  you  ?'  asked  the  first  calmly,  with- 
out replying  to  the  question  or  becoming  intimidated. 

"Do  you  refer  to  the  Captain?     Yes,  he  is." 

"Tell  him,  then,  that  Elias  is  looking  for  him  here,^' 
said  the  n^ian. 

"Are  you  Elias?"  asked  the  other  with  a  certain  re- 
spect, and  aproaching  him  without  lowering  his  revolver. 
"Then  come." 

Elias  followed  him. 

They  penetrated  into  a  kind  of  cavern,  which  was  hol- 
lowed out  in  the  depths  of  the  earth.  The  guide,  who  knew 
the  way,  told  the  pilot  when  he  ought  to  get  down,  stoop 
or  crawl.     However,  it  was  not  long  before  they  came  to  a 


166  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

sola  or  room  in  the  cave,  miserably  illuminated  by  pitcK 
torches,  and  occupied  by  twelve  or  fifteen  armed  men. 
The  faces  of  the  men  were  dirty  and  their  clothes  ragged ; 
some  were  sitting  down,  others  lying  down,  conversing 
among  themselves  in  a  low  tone.  Leaning  his  elbows  on 
a  stone  which  served  as  a  table  and  contemplating  thought- 
fully the  lamp,  which  was  shedding  very  little  light  fot 
the  amount  of  smoke  it  made,  sat  an  old  man.  His  coun- 
tenance was  sad,  and  his  head  wrapped  in  a  bloody  rag. 
If  we  had  not  known  that  the  place  was  a  cave  of  tuU- 
sanes,  we  would  have  said,  on  reading  the  desperation  on 
the  face  of  the  old  man,  that  it  was  the  Tower  of  Hunger 
on  the  eve  when  Ugolino  devoured  his  sons. 

At  the  arrival  of  Elias  and  the  guide,  the  men  were 
about  to  arise,  but,  at  a  signal  from  the  guide,  they  were 
quieted  and  contented  themselves  with  examining  the 
pilot,  who  was  entirely  unarmed. 

The  old  man  turned  his  head  slowly  and  his  eyes  met 
the  sturdy  figure  of  Elias.  The  latter,  in  turn,  with  his 
head  uncovered,  full  of  sadness  and  interest,  gazed  upon 
the  old  man. 

'^Is  it  you?"  asked  the  old  man,  his  face  brightening 
a  little  as  he  recognized  the  youth. 

"How  badly  off  you  are !"  murmured  Elias,  in  an  half- 
intelligible  tone  of  voice. 

The  old  man  bowed  in  silence,  made  a  sign  to  the  men, 
who  then  arose  and  left,  not,  however,  without  first  direct- 
ing glances  at  the  pilot,  measuring  his  stature  and  mus- 
cles. 

'^Yes !"  said  the  old  man  to  Elias  as  soon  as  they  found 
themselves  alone.  "Six  months  ago,  I  gave  you  refuge 
in  my  house.  Then,  it  was  I  who  sympathized  with  you ; 
now,  fortune  has  changed  and  it  is  you  who  pity  me.  But 
sit  down,  and  tell  me  how  you  came  here." 

"Some  fifteen  days  ago  they  told  me  of  your  misfor- 
tune," replied  the  young  man  slowly,  and  in  a  low  voice, 
looking  toward  the  light.  "I  at  once  set  out  on  the  road 
and  I  have  been  searching  for  you  from  mountain  to 
mountain.  I  have  travelled  over  the  greater  part  of  two 
provinces. 
"Bather  than  spill  innocent  blood,"  said  Pablo,  "I  have 


The  Persecuted.  167 

had  to  flee.  My  enemies  are  afraid  to  show  themselves 
and  shield  themselves  behind  some  unhappy  fellows  who 
have  never  done  me  the  slightest  injury." 

Then,  after  a  short  pause,  of  which  Elias  took  advan- 
tage to  read  the  thoughts  in  that  melancholy  countenance, 
he  replied: 

"I  have  come  to  make  a  proposition.  Having  searched 
in  vain  for  some  member  of  the  family  which  has  caused 
me  my  misfortunes,  I  have  decided  to  leave  the  province 
where  I  am  living  and  to  emigrate  to  the  north  and  live 
there  among  the  heathen  and  independent  tribes.  Do  you 
want  to  leave  this  life  and  go  with  me?  I  will  be  your 
son,  since  you  have  lost  those  whom  you  had,  and  I,  who 
have  no  family,  will  take  you  as  my  father." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  and  said: 

"At  my  age,  when  a  person  makes  a  desperate  resolu- 
tion it  is  because  there  is  no  other  course  open.  A  man 
who,  like  me  has  passed  his  youth  and  the  best  years 
of  his  life  working  for  his  own  future  and  for  the  future 
of  his  sons,  a  man  who  has  been  submissive  to  all  the  wishes 
of  his  superiors,  who  has  discharged  conscientiously  all 
his  duties,  suffered  everything  in  order  to  live  in  peace 
and  in  tranquillity;  when  such  a  man,  whose  blood  has 
been  chilled  by  Time,  renounces  all  his  past  and  all  his 
future,  on  the  very  edge  of  his  grave — when  a  man  does 
this,  it  is  because  he  has  decided  with  mature  Judgment 
that  peace  does  not  exist,  and  that  there  is  no  Supreme 
Good.  What  use  is  there  in  living  a  few  miserable  days 
in  a  foreign  land?  I  had  two  sons,  a  daughter,  a  fire- 
side, a  fortune.  I  enjoyed  consideration  and  esteem.. 
Now  I  am  like  a  tree  that  has  been  stripped  of  its  branches ; 
a  wandering  fugitive,  hunted  like  a  wild  beast  in  the  forest, 
and  all — ^why?  Because  a  man  dishonored  my  daughter, 
because  her  brothers  wanted  to  make  that  man  account 
for  his  infamous  deed,  and  because  that  man  is  placed 
above  all  others  with  a  title  of  Minister  of  God.  But  de- 
spite it  all,  I,  a  father,  I,  dishonored  in  my  old  age,  par- 
doned the  injury,  for  I  was  indulgent  with  the  passions  of 
youth  and  the  weakness  of  the  flesh,  and,  as  the  evil  was 
irreparable,  I  wanted  to  save  what  still  remained  to  me. 
But  the  criminal,  afraid  that  vengeance  was  near  at  hand, 


168  *  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

sought  the  destruction  of  my  sons.  What  did  He  do  ?  You 
do  not  know?  Do  you  know  how  they  feigned  that  there 
had  been  a  robbery  in  the  convent  and  how  one  of  my 
sons  figured  among  the  accused?  The  other  son  they 
could  not  include  because  he  was  away.  Do  you  know  the 
tortures  to  which  they  were  submitted?  You  know  them 
because  they  are  like  those  in  other  towns.  I  saw  my 
son  hung  by  the  hair,  I  heard  his  cries,  I  heard  him  call 
me,  and,  coward  that  I  was,  and,  accustomed  to  peace,  I 
was  not  brave  enough  to  kill  or  be  killed.  Do  you  know 
that  the  robbery  was  not  proved,  that  it  was  seen  that  it 
v/as  a  calumny,  that  the  curate  was  transferred  to  another 
town  and  that  my  son  died  from  the  result  of  his  tor- 
tures? The  other  boy,  who  was  still  left  for  me,  was  not 
a  coward  like  his  father.  The  executioner  was  afraid 
that  this  son  would  take  revenge  for  the  death  of  his 
brother  and  so,  under  pretense  of  his  not  having  a 
cedula*  which  for  the  moment  had  been  forgotten,  he  was 
imprisoned  by  the  Civil  Guard,  maltreated,  irritated  and 
provoked  by  force  and  injuries  until  he  was  driven  to 
suicide.  And  I  have  survived  after  such  a  disgrace.  But, 
if  I  had  not  the  courage  of  a  father  to  defend  his  sons, 
I  have  left  a  heart  to  take  vengeance  and  I  shall  be  re- 
venged! The  discontented  are  uniting  under  my  com- 
mand, my  enemies  increase  my  camp,  and  on  that  day 
when  I  consider  myself  strong  enough  I  will  go  down  into 
the  plain  and  extinguish  in  fire  both  my  vengeance  and  my 
own  existence.  And  that  day  will  come  or  there  is  no 
GodP 

The  old  man  rose  to  his  feet  deeply  agitated.  With 
his  eyes  sparkling  like  fire  and,  in  a  hollow  voice,  he  added, 
tearing  his  long  hair: 

"Curses  upon  me,  curses  upon  me  for  having  restrained 
the  avenging  hand  of  my  sons.  I  have  assassinated  them ! 
Had  I  allowed  them  to  kill  the  criminal;  had  I  had  less 
faith  in  the  justice  of  God  and  of  men,  I  would  now  have 
my  sons;  perhaps  they  would  have  been  fugitives,  but  I 
would  have  them  and  they  would  not  have  died  in  tor- 
ture.   I  was  not  born  to  be  a  father !     For  that  reason,  I 

*  Certificate  of  identification  required  of  all  Filipinos  under 
Spanish  domination. 


The  Persecuted.  169 

haven't  tHem  with  me  now !  Curses  upon  me  for  not  hav- 
ing learned,  with  all  my  years,  in  what  age  we  live !  But 
in  blood  and  fire,  and  in  my  own  death,  I  will  know  how  to 
take  vengeance  for  them !" 

The  unfortunate  father,  in  the  paroxysm  of  his  grief, 
had  taken  off  the  bandage  from  his  head,  opening  up  a 
wound  which  he  had  on  the  forehead  and  from  which 
the  blood  oozed  out. 

"I  respect  your  grief,''  replied  Elias,  "and  I  understand 
your  desire  for  vengeance.  I,  too,  am  like  you,  but,  for 
fear  of  harming  an  innocent  one,  I  prefer  to  forget  my 
misfortunes." 

"You  can  forget  them  because  you  are  young,  and  be- 
cause you  have  not  lost  your  son,  have  not  lost  your 
last  hope !  But,  I  assure  you,  I  will  not  harm  an  innocent 
person.  Do  you  see  that  wound  ?  I  allowed  myself  to  re- 
ceive that  in  order  not  to  kill  a  poor  cuaderillero  who  was 
fulfilling  his  duty." 

"But  see!"  said  Elias,  after  a  moment's  silence.  "See 
what  frightful  destruction  you  will  bring  upon  our  un- 
fortunate country.  If  you  seek  revenge  by  your  own  hand 
your  enemies  will  retaliate,  not  against  you,  not  against 
those  who  are  armed,  but  against  the  people,  who  are  al- 
ways accused,  and  then  how  many  more  injustices  V* 

"Let  the  people  learn  to  defend  themselves.  Let  each 
learn  to  defend  himself." 

"You  know  that  that  is  impossible.  Senor,  I  have 
known  you  in  other  times  when  you  were  happy,  then  you 
gave  me  wise  advice.     Will  you  permit  me.  .  .  ?" 

The  old  man  crossed  his  arms  and  seemed  to  meditate 
upon  what  he  was  going  to  say. 

"Senor,"  continued  Elias,  measuring  his  words  well, 
"I  have  had  the  fortune  to  be  of  service  to  a  young  man, 
rich,  of  good  heart,  noble,  and  a  lover  of  his  country's  wel- 
fare. They  say  that  this  young  man  has  friends  in  Mad- 
rid. I  do  not  know  it,  but  I  can  positively  assure  you  that 
he  is  a  friend  of  the  Governor  General.  What  do  you 
say  if  we  make  him  the  bearer  of  the  people's  complaints, 
if  we  can  interest  him  in  the  cause  of  the  unhappy?" 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"Do  you  say  that  he  is  a  rich  man?    The  rich  think  of 


170  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

nothing  but  to  increase  their  riches.  Pride  and  pomp 
blind  them,  and,  since  they  are  generally  well  off,  espe- 
cially if  they  have  powerful  friends,  none  of  them  ever 
troubles  himself  about  the  unfortunates.  I  know  it  all, 
for  I  was  once  rich  myself.^' 

"But  the  man  of  whom  I  am  speaking  does  not  seem 
to  be  like  the  others.  He  is  a  son  who  would  not  allow 
the  memory  of  his  father  to  be  dishonored.  He  is  a  young 
man  who  thinks  about  the  future — ^thinks  of  a  good  future 
for  his  sons,  for  he  may  in  a  short  time  have  a  family  of  his 
own.^^ 

"Then  he  is  a  man  who  is  going  to  be  happy.  Our  cause 
is  not  a  cause  for  happy  men." 

"But  it  is  a  cause  for  men  of  good  hearts.'^ 

"That  may  be,"  replied  the  old  man  sitting  down.  "Sup- 
pose that  he  consented  to  carry  our  complaints  to  the  Gov- 
ernor General.  Suppose  that  he  finds  in  the  court  those 
who  will  argue  for  us.     Do  you  think  we  will  get  justice  ?" 

"Let  us  try  it  before  resorting  to  bloody  measures,"  re- 
plied Elias.  "It  must  seem  strange  to  you  that  I,  another 
unfortunate,  young,  robust — that  I  should  propose  to  you 
old  and  weak — peaceful  measures.  But  it  is  because  I  have 
seen  so  many  miseries  caused  by  us  similar  to  those  caused 
by  tyrants.     The  unarmed  is  the  one  who  suffers." 

"And  if  we  do  not  accomplish  anything  ?" 

"Something  will  be  accomplished,  believe  me!  Not  all 
who  govern  are  unjust.  And  if  we  do  not  accomplish 
anything,  if  our  voice  is  not  listened  to,  if  the  man  turns  a 
deaf  ear  to  the  grief  of  his  fellow  men,  then  we  will  put 
ourselves  under  your  orders." 

The  old  man,  full  of  enthusiasm,  embraced  the  young 
man. 

"I  accept  your  proposition,  Elias.  I  know  that  you  will 
keep  your  word.  You  come  to  me  and  I  will  help  you 
take  vengeance  for  your  father.  You  will  help  me  to  take 
vengeance  for  my  sons — ^my  sons  who  were  like  you !" 

"In  the  meantime,  Senor,  avoid  all  violent  measures." 

^^ou  can  expound  the  complaints  of  the  people.  You 
certainly  know  them.     When  will  we  know  the  answer?" 

'Within  four  days  send  a  man  to  meet  me  on  the 
beach  at  San  Diego  and  I  will  tell  him  what  the  person 


The  Persecuted.  171 

in  whom  I  have  hope  says.  If  he  accepts,  we  will  get 
justice,  and  if  he  does  not  accept,  I  will  be  the  first  to 
fall  in  the  fight  which  we  will  begin." 

"Elias  will  not  die.    Elias  will  be  chief,  when  Captain 
Pablo  falls,  satisfied  in  his  revenge,"  said  the  old  man. 


172  Friars  and  Filipinos 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    COCK    FIGHT. 

In*  order  to  keep  the  Sabbath  holy  in  the  Philippines 
the  people  generally  go  to  the  cock  fight,  just  as  in  Spain 
they  go  to  the  bull  fight.  Cock  fighting,  a  passion  intro- 
duced into  the  country  and  exploited  for  a  century,  is  one 
of  the  vices  of  the  people,  more  deeply  rooted  than  the 
opium  vice  among  the  Chinese.  The  poor  go  there  to  risk 
what  little  they  have,  desirous  of  making  money  without 
working ;  the  rich  go  there  to  amuse  themselves,  using  the 
money  which  they  have  left  over  from  their  feasts  and 
thanksgiving  masses.  The  cock  is  educated  with  great 
care,  with  more  care,  perhaps,  than  the  son  who  is  to  suc- 
ceed his  father  in  the  cock-pit.  The  Government  permits 
it  and  almost  recommends  it,  for  it  decrees  that  the  fight 
shall  only  be  held  in  the  public  plazas  and  on  holidays 
from  after  high  mass  till  dark — eight  hours. 

The  San  Diego  cock-pit  does  not  differ  from  others 
which  are  found  in  all  the  towns.  It  consists  of  three 
parts:  The  first,  or  entrance,  is  a  large  rectangle,  some 
twenty  meters  in  length  and  fourteen  in  breadth.  On  one 
side  is  the  door,  generally  guarded  by  a  woman  who  collects 
the  entrance  fee.  From  the  contribution  which  each  one 
makes  the  Government  receives  a  part,  some  hundred 
thousands  of  pesos  each  year.  They  say  that  with  this 
money,  which  gives  license  to  the  vice,  magnificent  schools 
are  raised,  bridges  and  roadways  constructed,  and  rewards 
offered  for  the  encouragement  of  agriculture  and  com- 
merce. Blessed  be  the  vice  which  produces  such  good  re- 
sults !  In  this  first  precinct  are  the  venders  of  betel  nut, 
cigars  and  tobacco,  delicacies  and  refreshments.  There 
the  small  boys,  who  accompany  their  fathers  or  uncles, 
are  carefully  initiated  into  the  secrets  of  life. 

This  precinct  communicates  with  another  of  slightly 


The  Cock  Fight.  173 

larger  dimensions,  a  sort  of  vestibule,  where  the  people 
gather  before  the  fight.  There,  one  sees  most  of  the  cocks, 
tied  by  a  cord  to  a  bone  driven  into  the  ground  like  a  nail ; 
there,  are  the  bettors,  the  lovers  of  the  sport,  the  man 
skilled  in  fastening  the  gaffs  or  spurs  to  the  cock's  legs; 
there,  bargains  are  made,  the  situation  discussed,  money 
borrowed,  and  people  curse,  swear  and  laugh  boister- 
ously. In  one  place,  some  one  is  caressing  his  game  cock, 
passing  his  hand  over  his  brilliant  plumage;  in  another, 
a  man  examines  and  counts  the  number  of  scales  on  the 
rooster's  legs,  for  that,  they  say,  is  a  sign  of  valor.  The 
battles  of  the  heroes  are  related.  There,  too,  you  will  see 
many  a  disappointed  owner,  with  a  sour  face  carrying  out 
by  the  legs,  a  dead  rooster,  stripped  of  its  plumage — the 
animal  which  was  a  favorite  for  months,  petted,  cared  for 
day  and  night,  and  on  which  flattering  hopes  had  been 
founded:  now,  nothing  more  than  a  dead  fowl,  to  be  sold 
for  a  peseta,  stewed  in  ginger  and  eaten  that  very  night. 
Sic  transit  gloria  mundi!  The  loser  returns  to  his  fire- 
side, where  an  anxious  wife  and  ragged  children  await 
him,  without  his  little  capital,  without  his  rooster.  From 
all  that  gilded  dream,  from  all  the  care  of  months,  from 
daybreak  to  sunset,  from  all  those  labors  and  fatigue, 
f i-om  all  that,  results  a  peseta,  the  ashes  left  from  so  much 
smoke. 

In  this  foyer,  or  vestibule,  the  most  ignorant  discuss  the 
coming  contests ;  the  most  trifling,  examine  conscientiously 
the  bird,  weigh  it,  contemplate  it,  extend  its  wings,  feel 
of  its  muscles.  Some  of  the  people  are  very  well  dressed, 
aiid  are  followed  and  surrounded  by  the  backers  of  their 
game  cocks.  Others,  dirty,  with  the  seal  of  vice  imprinted 
on  their  squalid  faces,  anxiously  follow  the  movements  of 
the  rich  and  watch  their  betting,  for  the  pocketbook  can  be 
emptied  and  the  passion  still  be  unsatisfied.  There  you 
see  no  face  that  is  not  animated,  no  indolent  Filipino; 
none  apathetic,  none  silent.  All  is  movement,  passion, 
^gemess. 

From  this  place,  one  passes  into  the  arena  or  rueda,  as 
it  is  called.  The  floor,  inclosed  by  bamboos,  is  generally 
elevated  higher  than  the  floor  of  the  other  two  parts  of 
the  cock-pit.     Running  up  from  the  floor  and  almost  touch- 


174  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ing  the  roof,  are  rows  of  seats  for  the  spectators  or  gam- 
blers— ^they  come  to  be  the  same.  During  the  combat  these 
seats  are  filled  with  men  and  children  who  cry,  shout,  per- 
spire, quarrel,  and  blaspheme.  Fortunately,  scarcely  any 
women  visit  the  cock-pit.  In  the  rueda  are  the  prominent 
men,  the  rich  class,  the  bettors,  the  bookmaker,  and  the 
referee.  The  cocks  fight  on  the  ground,  which  is  beaten 
down  perfectly  smooth,  and  there  Destiny  distributes  to 
families  laughter  or  tears,  feasts  or  hunger. 

As  we  enter,  we  can  see  the  gohernadorcillo.  Captain 
Pablo,  Captain  Basilio,  and  Lucas,  the  man  with  the  scar 
on  his  face  who  was  so  disconsolate  over  the  death  of  his 
brother. 

Captain  Basilio  approaches  one  of  those  present  and  asks 
him: 

"Do  you  know  what  cock  Captain  Tiago  is  going  to 
briqg?" 

"I  do  not  know,  Senor.  This  morning  two  arrived,  one 
of  them  the  lasak  (black  sprinkled  with  white)  which 
whipped  the  Consul's  talisain  (red,  sprinkled  with  black)." 

"Do  you  think  that  my  bulih  (black,  red  and  white),  can 
beat  him?'' 

"Yes,  I  surely  do.  I'll  stake  my  house  and  shirt  on 
him!' 

At  that  moment  Captain  Tiago  arrived.  He  was 
dressed,  like  the  big  gamblers,  in  a  camisa  of  Canton  linen, 
\\ax)len  pantaloons,  and  a  panama-straw  hat.  Behind  him 
came  two  servants,  carrying  the  IdsaJc  and  a  white  cock 
of  colossal  proportions. 

"Sinang  tells  me  that  Maria  Clara  is  improving  stead- 
ily," said  Captain  Basilio. 

"She  no  longer  has  any  fever,  but  she  is  still  weak." 

"Did  you  lose  last  night?" 

"A  little.  I  heard  that  you  won.  .  .  I  am  going  to  see 
if  I  can  win  back  my  money." 

"Do  you  want  to  fight  your  Idsahf  asked  Captain  Ba- 
silio, looking  at  the  rooster. 

"That  depends  on  whether  there  is  any  money  up." 

"How  much  will  you  stake  ?" 

"I  don't  play  less  than  two  thousand." 


The  Cock  Fight.  175 

"Have  you  seen  my  huliJc  f  asked  Captain  Basilio,  and 
then  called  a  man  to  bring  a  small  rooster. 

Captain  Tiago  examined  it,  and  after  weighing  it  in  his 
hand,  and  examining  its  scales,  he  handed  it  back. 

"What  do  you  put  up  ?"  he  asked. 

'Whatever  you  say." 

"Two  thousand  five  hundred?" 

"Make  it  three?" 

"Three." 

"Let  her  go!" 

The  circle  of  curious  people  and  gamblers  learn  that 
the  two  celebrated  cocks  are  to  be  fought.  Both  the  roost- 
ers have  made  a  history  for  themselves ;  both  have  a  repu- 
tation. All  want  to  see  and  examine  the  two  celebrities. 
Opinions  are  expressed,  and  prophecies  made. 

In  the  meantime  the  voices  grow  louder,  the  confusion 
is  augmented,  the  rueda,  fills  up  and  a  rush  is  made  for  the 
seats.  The  soltadores  bring  two  cocks  to  the  ring  for  a 
preliminary  contest.  One  of  the  roosters  is  bianco 
(white),  the  other  rojo  (red).  They  are  already  spurred, 
but  the  gaffs  are  not  yet  unsheathed.  Cries  of  "Az  bianco! 
at  bianco!"  are  heard.  Some  one  else  shouts,  "AZ  rojo!" 
The  bianco  is  the  favorite. 

Civil  Guards  circulate  among  the  crowd.  They  are  not 
wearing  the  uniform  of  their  body,  nor  do  they  wear  the 
costume  of  the  native.  Pantaloons  of  guingon  with  a  red 
fringe,  a  blue-spotted  blouse  shirt,  and  the  cuartel  cap — 
you  have  here  their  disguise,  in  harmony  with  their  deport- 
ment ;  watching  and  betting,  making  disturbance  and  talk- 
ing of  maintaining  the  peace. 

While  the  shouting  is  going  on  and  men  are  jingling 
money  in  their  hands;  while  the  people  are  going  down 
in  their  pockets  for  the  last  cvxirto,  or,  if  that  is  wanting, 
pledging  their  word,  promising  to  sell  their  carabao,  or 
their  next  harvest,  two  young  men,  apparently  brothers, 
follow  the  gamblers  with  envious  eyes.  They  approach, 
timidly  murmur  words  which  nobody  catches,  and  each 
time  become  more  and  more  melancholy,  and  look  at  each 
other  with  disgust  and  indignation.  Lucas  observes  them, 
smiles  malignantly,  rattles  some  silver  pesos,  passes  near 
to  the  two  brothers^  and  looks  toward  the  rueda,  shouting: 


176  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"I  am  betting  fifty,  fifty  against  twenty  on  the  white  I" 

The  two  brothers  exchange  looks. 

"I  told  you,"  murmured  the  older,  "not  to  bet  all  your 
money.  If  you  had  obeyed  me,  we  would  have  it  now  to 
put  on  the  red." 

The  younger  one  approached  Lucas  timidly  and  touched 
him  on  the  arm. 

"Is  it  you?"  exclaimed  the  latter  turning  around  and 
feigning  surprise.  "Does  your  brother  accept  my  propo- 
sition or  did  you  come  to  bet?" 

"How  can  we  bet  when  we  have  lost  all  ?" 

"Then  you  accept?" 

"He  does  not  want  to !  If  you  could  lend  us  something : 
you  have  already  said  that  you  knew  us.  .  .  " 

Lucas  scratched  his  head,  pulled  down  his  camisa  and 
replied : 

'*Yes,  I  know  you.  You  are  Tarsilo  and  Bruno,  both 
young  and  strong.  I  know  that  your  brave  father  died 
from  the  result  of  the  hundred  lashes  which  the  soldiers 
gave  him.    I  know  that  you  do  not  think  of  avenging  him." 

"You  need  not  meddle  in  our  history,"  interrupted  Tar- 
silo, the  older.  "That  is  a  disgrace.  If  we  did  not  have 
a  sister,  we  would  have  been  hanged  long  ago." 

"Hanged?  They  only  hang  cowards,  or  some  one  who 
has  no  money  or  protection.  Certainly  the  mountains  are 
near." 

"A  hundred  against  twenty  on  the  bianco/'  cried  one 
as  he  passed  the  group. 

"Loan  us  four  pesos.  .  .  .  three.  .  .  .  two,"  begged  the 
younger  brother.  "Presently  I  will  return  it  to  you 
doubled.    The  fight  is  going  to  begin." 

Lucas  scratched  his  head  again. 

"Tst!  This  money  is  not  mine.  Don  Crisostomo  has 
given  it  to  me  for  those  who  want  to  serve  him.  But  I 
see  that  you  are  not  like  your  father.  He  was  really  cour- 
ageous." 

And,  saying  this,  he  went  away  from  them,  although 
not  far. 

"Let  us  accept.  What  does  it  matter?"  said  Bruno  to 
his  brother.     "It  amounts  to  the  same  thing  whether  you 


The  Cock  Fight.  177 

are  Hanged  or  shot  down.  We  poor  serve  for  nothing 
else." 

'TToTi  are  right,  but  think  of  onr  sister." 

In  the  meantime,  the  circle  around  the  ring  had  been 
dispersed;  the  fight  was  going  to  commence.  The  voices 
began  to  die  away,  and  the  two  soltadores  and  the  skilled 
gaff  fitter,  were  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  rueda.  At 
a  signal  from  the  referee,  the  sheaths  were  removed  from 
the  razor-like  knives  on  the  cocks'  legs,  and  the  fine  blades 
glistened  in  a  menacing  way. 

The  two  brothers,  gloomy  and  silent,  approached  the 
ring  and,  resting  their  faces  against  the  bamboo  railing, 
watched  the  preparations.  A  man  approached  them  and 
said  in  their  ears:  "Hundred  to  ten  on  the  bianco T 

Tarsilo  looked  at  him  stupidly.  Bruno  elbowed  his 
brother,  who  responded  with  a  grunt. 

The  soltadores  handle  the  roosters  with  masterly  skill, 
taking  great  care  not  to  wound  them.  A  deep  silence 
reigns  throughout  the  pit.  You  would  think  that  those 
present,  with  the  exception  of  the  two  soltadores,  were 
horrible  wax  figures.  The  two  roosters  are  brought  close 
together  and  allowed  to  pick  at  each  other  and  thus  be- 
come irritated.  Then  they  allow  them  to  look  at  each 
other,  so  that  the  poor  little  birds  may  know  who  has 
plucked  out  their  feathers,  and  with  whom  they  should 
fight.  The  feathers  around  the  neck  stand  up;  they  look 
at  each  other  fixedly;  flashes  of  wrath  escape  from  their 
little,  round  eyes.  The  moment  has  come.  The  birds 
are  placed  on  the  ground  in  the  ring  at  a  certain  distance 
from  each  other. 

The  cocks  advance  slowly.  Their  little  steps  are  heard 
upon  the  hard  floor.  Nobody  speaks;  nobody  breathes. 
Llowering  and  raising  their  heads,  as  if  measuring  each 
other  with  a  look,  the  two  roosters  mutter  sounds,  per- 
haps of  threat  or  contempt.  They  have  perceived  the 
shining  blades.  Danger  animates  them,  and  they  turn  to- 
ward each  other  decided,  but  they  stop  at  a  short  dis- 
tance, and,  as  they  look  at  each  other,  they  bow  their 
heads  and  again  raise  their  feathers  on  end.  With  their 
natural  valor,  they  rush  at  each  other  impetuously;  they 


178  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

strike  beak  against  beak;  breast  against  breast,  blade 
against  blade,  and  wing  against  wing.  The  blows  have 
been  stopped  with  dexterity  and  skill,  and  only  a  few 
feathers  have  fallen.  They  again  measure  each  other! 
Suddenly  the  bianco  turns  and,  raising  himself  in  the 
air,  flashes  his  death-dealing  knife,  but  the  rojo  has  al- 
ready doubled  up  his  legs,  ducked  his  head  and  the  hlanco 
has  only  cut  the  air.  Then,  on  touching  the  ground, 
to  avoid  being  wounded  from  behind,  he  turns  quickly 
and  faces  the  other.  The  red  attacks  him  with  fury,  but 
he  defends  himself  with  coolness.  Not  without  reason  was 
he  the  favorite  of  the  crowd.  All,  trembling  and  anxious, 
follow  the  movements  of  the  battle,  now  this  one  and  now 
that  one  giving  an  involuntary  shout.  The  ground  is 
being  covered  with  red  and  white  feathers,  tinged  with 
blood.  But  the  duel  does  not  go  to  the  one  who  draws 
first  blood.  The  Filipino  here  follows  the  laws  laid  down 
by  the  Government,  which  say  that  the  cock  which  is 
killed  or  flees  loses  the  fight.  The  blood  now  wets  the 
ground;  the  blows  are  repeated,  but  the  victory  is  still 
undecided.  Finally,  making  a  supreme  effort,  the  bianco 
throws  himself  forward  to  give  a  last  blow;  he  drives  his 
knife  into  the  wing  of  the  rojo  and  buries  it  among  the 
bones.  But  the  bianco  has  been  wounded  in  the  breast, 
and  both,  weak  from  loss  of  blood,  and  panting,  fastened 
together,  remain  immovable  until  the  bianco  falls,  bleeds 
through  his  neck,  kicks  violently  and  is  in  the  agony  of 
death.  The  rojo,  pinned  by  his  wing,  is  held  to  the  other's 
side ;  and  little  by  little  he  doubles  up  his  legs  and  slowly 
closes  his  eyes. 

Then  the  referee,  in  accordance  with  the  regulations 
prescribed  by  the  Government,  declares  the  rojo  the  win- 
ner. A  wild  and  prolonged  outcry  greets  the  decision,  an 
outcry  which  is  heard  throughout  the  town.  He,  who, 
from  afar,  hears  the  cry,  understands  that  the  dejado  has 
beaten  the  favorite,  for  otherwise  the  outcry  would  not 
have  lasted  so  long.  So  it  happens  among  nations:  when 
a  small  nation  succeeds  in  gaining  a  victory  over  a  greater 
one,  the  song  and  story  of  it  last  through  centuries. 

'^Do  you  see?''   said  Bruno,  with  indignation,  to  his 


The  Cock  Fight.  179 

brother,  "if  you  had  taken  my  advice  to-day,  we  would 
have  had  one  hundred  pesos.  On  your  account  we  are 
without  a  cuarto." 

Tarsilo   did  not   reply,   but,    with    wide-open    eyes, 
looked  around  him  as  if  in  search  of  some  one. 

"There  he  is  talking  with  Pedro/'  added  Bruno.  "He 
is  giving  him  money — what  a  lot  of  money!" 

Tarsilo  remained  silent  and  thoughtful.  With  the  arm 
of  his  camisa,  he  wiped  away  the  sweat  which  formed  in 
drops  on  his  forehead. 

"Brother,"  said  Bruno,  "I  am  decided,  even  if  you  are 
not.  The  Idsah  ought  to  win  and  we  ought  not  to  lose 
the  opportunity.  I  want  to  bet  on  the  next  fight.  What 
does  it  matter?  Thus,  we  will  avenge  our  father." 

'^ait!"  said  Tarsilo  to  him,  and  looked  him  in  the 
eyes.  Both  were  pale.  "I  am  with  you.  You  are  right. 
We  will  avenge  our  father." 

He  stopped,  however,  and  again  wiped  away  the  per- 
spiration. 

"Why  do  you  stop?"  asked  Bruno  impatiently. 

"Do  you  know  what  fight  is  the  next  one  ?  Is  it  worth 
the  trouble?" 

"What!  Haven't  you  heard?  Captain  Tiago's  Idsak 
against  Captain  Basilio's  hulik.  According  to  the  run  of 
luck,  the   Idsdk  ought  to   win." 

"Ah!  The  Idsdk.  I  would  bet  ....  but  let  us  make 
sure  first." 

Bruno  made  a  gesture  of  impatience,  but  followed  his 
brother.  The  latter  looked  the  rooster  over  carefully, 
thought  about  it,  debated  with  himself  and  asked  a  few 
questions.  The  unfortunate  fellow  was  in  doubt.  Bruno 
was  nervous  and  looked  at  him  angrily. 

"Why,  don't  you  see  that  wide  scale  which  he  has  there 
near  the  spur?  Do  you  see  those  feet?  What  more  do 
you  want?  Look  at  those  legs.  Stretch  out  his  wings. 
And  that  broken  scale  on  top  of  that  wide  one,  and  that 
double  one?" 

Tarsilo  did  not  hear  him,  he  kept  on  examining  the 
cock.    The  rattle  of  silver  coins  reached  his  ears. 

"Let  us  see  the  hulilc  now,"  said  he,  in  a  choking  voice. 


180  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Bruno  stamped  the  ground  with  his  feet,  grated  his 
teeth,  but  obeyed  his  brother. 

They  approached  the  other  group.  There  they  were 
arming  the  cock,  they  were  selecting  gaffs  for  him,  and 
the  expert,  in  fitting  them  to  the  rooster's  legs,  was  pre- 
paring a  piece  of  red  silk.  He  waxed  it  and  rubbed  it  over 
his  knee  a  number  of  times. 

Tarsilo  gazed  at  the  bird  with  a  sombre  air.  It  seemed 
that  he  was  not  looking  at  the  cock,  but  at  something 
in  the  future.    He  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead. 

'^Are  you  ready  ?^'  he  asked  his  brother,  his  voice 
scarcely  perceptible. 

"I?    Long  ago.    Without  having  to  see  them.'' 

"It  is  our  poor  sister ^" 

"Bah!  Didn't  they  tell  you  that  the  leader  is  Don 
Crisostomo?  Have  you  not  seen  him  walking  with  the 
Governor  General?     What  danger  will  we  run?" 

"And  if  we  are  killed?" 

^^hat  does  it  matter?  Our  father  died  from  being 
whipped  to  death." 

"You  are  right." 

Both  brothers  sought  Lucas  in  the  crowd. 

As  soon  as  they  caught  sight  of  him,  Tarsilo  stopped. 

"No!  Let  us  go  away  from  here!  We  are  going  to 
lose,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Go  if  you  wish.    I  am  going  to  accept." 

"Bruno!" 

Unfortunately,  a  man  approached  them  and  said: 

"Are  you  betting?     I  am  backing  the  huUhf* 

The  two  brothers  did  not  reply. 

"I'll  give  you  odds." 

"How  much?"  askdd  Bruno. 

The  man  counted  out  four  peso  pieces.  Bruno  looked 
at  him,  breathless. 

"I  have  two  hundred.     Fifty  to  forty." 

"N"o,"  said  Bruno  promptly.    "Make  it  .  .  /' 

"All  right !    fifty  to  thirty." 

"Double  it  if  you  wish !" 

"Well !  The  lulilc  is  my  winning  color  and  I  have  just 
won.    Hundred  against  sixty!" 

"That's  a  ^ :    Wait  till  I  go  and  get  my  money." 


The  Cock  Fight.  181 

''But  I  will  be  the  stake-holder,"  said  the  other,  in 
whom  the  manner  of  Bruno  inspired  little  confidence. 

"It's  all  the  same  to  me  I"  responded  the  latter,  trusting 
in  the  strength  of  his  fists. 

"And,  turning  to  his  brother,  he  said: 

"Go  away,  if  you  wish ;  I'm  going  to  stay." 

Then  Tarsilo  reflected.  He  loved  his  brother  and  the 
game.  He  could  not  leave  him  alone,  and  he  murmured. 
"Let  it  be  so !" 

They  approached  Lucas.  The  latter  saw  them  coming 
and  smiled. 

"Eh !  there !"  said  TarsHo. 

"What  is  it?'' 

"How  much  do  you  give?"  asked  the  two  brothers. 

"I  have  already  told  you.  If  you  want  to  find  some 
others  to  help  us  surprise  the  ctmrtel,  I  will  give  you 
thirty  pesos  apiece,  and  ten  pesos  for  each  companion  you 
get.  If  all  comes  out  well,  each  will  receive  one  hundred 
pesos  and  you  two,  double  that  amount.  Don  Crisostomo 
is  rich." 

"Accepted,"  exclaimed  Bruno.     "Hand  over  the  money." 

"I  knew  well  that  you  were  brave,  like  your  father. 
Come !  Don't  let  them  hear  us  or  they  will  kill  us,"  said 
Lucas,  pointing  to  the  Civil  Guards. 

And  taking  them  into  a  comer,  he  told  them,  as  he 
counted  out  the  money  to  them: 

"To-morrow  Don  Crisostomo  will  arrive  and  bring  arms. 
Day  after  to-morrow,  about  eight  o'clock  at  night,  come 
to  the  cemetery.  I  will  tell  you  about  the  final  arrange- 
ments.   You  have  time  to  find  some  other  companions." 

They  took  leave  of  each  other.  Now  the  two  brothers 
seemed  to  have  changed  their  roles.  Tarsilo  was  calm; 
Bruno,  pale. 


182  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

THE   TWO   SENORAS. 

While  Captain  Tiago  was  fighting  his  Idsah  against  the 
hulih.  Dona  Victorina  took  a  walk  through  the  town,  with 
the  intention  of  seeing  the  condition  of  the  indolent  na- 
tives, and  of  their  houses  and  fields.  She  had  dressed  as 
elegantly  as  she  could,  putting  all  her  ribbons  and  flowers 
on  her  silk  gown,  in  order  to  impress  the  provincials,  and 
make  them  see  how  great  a  distance  was  between  them  and 
her  sacred  person.  Giving  her  arm  to  her  lame  husband, 
she  fluttered  through  the  streets  of  the  town,  among  the 
stupefied  and  wondering  inhabitants.  Cousin  Linares  had 
remained  in  the  house. 

"What  ugly  houses  these  natives  have,"  began  Dona 
Victorina,  making  a  grimace.  "I  don't  know  how  they 
can  live  there:  one  must  be  a  native  to  do  it.  They  meet 
us  and  don't  uncover  their  heads !  Hit  them  over  the  head 
as  the  curates  and  tenientes  of  the  Guardia  Civil  do  when 
they  don't  take  off  their  hats.    Teach  them  manners.'^ 

"And  if  they  hit  me  ?"  asked  Dr.  de  Espadana. 

"Aren't  you  a  man  ?" 

"Bu — ^bu — but,  I  am  la — ^la — ^lame." 

Dona  Victorina  was  becoming  bad-humored.  The  streets 
were  not  paved,  and  the  train  of  her  gown  was  covered 
with  dust.  Besides,  they  met  many  young  women,  who, 
on  passing  her,  cast  down  their  eyes  and  did  not  admire 
her  lavish  dress  as  they  should  have  done.  Sinang's  coach* 
man,  who  was  driving  her  and  her  cousin  in  an  elegant 
carriage,  had  the  impudence  to  call  out  tahi*  to  them  in 
such  a  warning  voice  that  she  had  to  get  out  of  the  way, 
and  was  only  able  to  exclaim,  "Look  at  that  brute  of  a 
coachman !  I  am  going  to  tell  his  master  that  he  should 
educate  his  servants  better !" 

*  Warning  cry  of  a  coachman,  meaning  "turn." 


The  Two  Senoras.  183 

"Let  us  go  back  to  the  house/'  she  ordered  her  husband. 

He,  fearing  that  there  was  going  to  be  a  storm,  turned 
on  his  heels  and  obeyed  the  command. 

They  met  the  alferez  on  the  way  back  and  greeted  him. 
He  increased  the  discontent  of  Dona  Victorina,  for  he  not 
only  failed  to  compliment  her  on  her  dress,  but  surveyed 
it  almost  with  a  mocking  manner. 

"You  ought  not  to  extend  your  har  d  to  a  simple  alferez/' 
said  she  to  her  husband  as  soon  as  they  were  some  distance 
away.  "He  scarcely  touches  his  helmet,  and  you  take  off 
your  hat.    You  don't  know  how  to  maintain  your  rank." 

"He  is  ch — ch — chief  here  !" 

"And  what  does  that  matter  to  us  ?  Are  we,  perchance, 
natives  ?" 

"You  are  right,''  replied  he,  not  wishing  to  quarrel. 

They  passed  by  the  officer's  house.  Dona  Consolacion 
was  in  the  window,  as  usual,  dressed  in  her  flannel  outfit 
and  smoking  her  cigar.  As  the  house  was  rather  low,  they 
could  see  each  other  as  they  passed,  and  Dona  Victorina 
could  distinguish  her  very  well.  The  Muse  of  the  Guardia 
Civil  examined  her  with  tranquillity  from  head  to  ^oot, 
and,  afterward,  sticking  out  her  lower  lip,  spit,  turning 
her  face  to  the  other  side.  That  put  an  end  to  Dona  Vic- 
torina's  patience,  and,  leaving  her  husband  without  any 
support,  she  squared  herself  in  front  of  the  aljereza,  trem- 
bling with  rage,  and  unable  to  speak.  Dona  Consolacion 
turned  her  head  slowly,  looked  her  over  again,  and  then 
spit  again,  but  with  still  greater  disdain. 

*^hat  is  the  matter  with  you.  Dona  ?"  said  the  alfereza. 

"Can  you  tell  me,  Senora,  why  you  look  at  me  so  ?  Are 
you  envious  ?"  Dona  Victorina  finally  succeeded  in  saying. 

"I  envious  of  you?"  said  the  Medusa  with  scorn.  "0, 
yes !    I  envy  those  curls." 

"Come,  wife !"  said  the  doctor.  "Do — don't  take  no — 
no — ^notice  of  her !" 

"Let  me  give  this  shameless  common  person  a  lesson!" 
replied  the  woman,  giving  her  husband  a  push.  He  nearly 
fell  to  the  ground.  Turning  to  Dona  Consolacion,  she 
continued : 

'T(Ook  how  you  treat  me !  Don't  think  that  I  am  a  pro_- 
vincial,  or  a  soldiers'  querida!    In  my  house  in  Manila 


184  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

alferezas  never  are  allowed  to  come  in.  They  wait  at  the 
door." 

"Oh-oh !  Most  Excellent  Seiiora !  Alferezas  don^t  enter, 
but  invalids  like  that  out  there.     Ha,  ha,  ha  V 

If  it  hadn't  been  for  all  the  paint  on  her  face,  one  could 
have  seen  Dona  Victorina  blush.  She  wanted  to  throw 
herself  upon  her  enemy,  but  the  sentry  stopped  her.  In 
the  meantime,  the  street  was  filling  up  with  curious  people. 

"Listen!  I  lower  myself  talking  with  you.  People  of 
categoria  ....  Do  you  want  my  clothes  to  wash  ?  I  will 
pay  you  well.  Do  you  think  that  I  don't  know  that  you 
are  a  washerwoman?" 

Dona  Consolacion  became  furious.  The  reference  to  her 
being  a  washerwoman  wounded  her. 

"Do  you  think  that  we  do  not  know  what  you  are?  Get 
out !  My  husband  has  already  told  me.  Senora,  I,  at  least, 
have  not  belonged  to  more  than  one  man,  but  you?  One 
must  be  pretty  hard  up  to  take  the  leavings." 

This  shot  struck  Dona  Victorina  square  in  the  breast. 
She  rolled  up  her  sleeves,  clenched  her  fists,  and,  gnashing 
her  teeth,  began : 

^^Come  down  here,  you  nasty  old  thing,  that  I  may 
smash  your  filthy  mouth." 

The  Medusa  disappeared  quickly  from  the  window,  but 
was  soon  seen  coming  down  the  stairs  on  a  run,  swinging 
her  husband's  whip. 

Don  Tiburcio  interposed,  pleading  with  them,  but  they 
would  have  come  to  blows  if  the  alferez  had  not  arrived. 

"But,  senoras!  ....    Don  Tiburcio!" 

"Teach  your  woman  better;  buy  her  better  clothes.  If 
you  haven't  the  money,  rob  the  people.  You  have  youi; 
soldiers  for  that!"  shouted  Dona  Victorina. 

"Senora,"  said  the  alferez  furiously.  "Thank  yourself 
that  I  don't  forget  that  you  are  a  woman ;  for  if  you  were 
not,  I  would  kick  you  to  pieces,  with  all  your  curls  and 
ribbons." 

"Se — se — senor  al — alferez!**  said  Don  Tiburcio. 

"Go  ahead!  Kill  us!  You  don't  wear  big  enough 
trousers,  you  quack." 

And  so  the  battle  waged:  words,  gestures,  cries,  insults, 
and  injuries.    uThey  brought  out  all  the  nasty  things  they 


The  Two  Senoras.  185 

could  think  of,  all  four  speaking  at  the  same  time,  and, 
saying  so  many  things  and  bringing  to  light  so  many 
truths,  that  we  will  not  relate  here  all  that  was  said.  The 
people  who  had  gathered  around  to  satisfy  their  curiosity, 
if  they  understood  all  the  remarks,  must  have  enjoyed 
themselves  not  a  little.  They  were  all  waiting  to  see  them 
come  to  blows.  Unfortunately  for  the  spectators,  the  cu- 
rate came  along  and  pacified  them. 

"Senoras!  senoras!     What  a  shame.     Senor  alferez/* 

"What  are  you  meddling  in  these  matters  for,  you  hypo- 
crite, you  Carlist?" 

"Don  Tiburcio,  take  away  your  wife !  Senora,  hold  your, 
tongue  V 

"Tell  that  to  those  robbers  of  the  poor !" 

Finally,  the  dictionary  of  epithets  was  exhausted.  The 
review  of  the  disgraces  of  each  couple  was  ended,  and  little 
by  little  they  were  separated,  threatening  and  insulting 
each  other.  Father  Salvi  kept  going  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  adding  life  to  the  scene. 

"This  very  day  we  will  go  to  Manila  and  we  will  present 
ourselves  to  the  Governor  General,"  said  Dona  Victorina, 
in  fury  to  her  husband.  "You  are  not  a  man.  It  is  a 
shame  that  you  spend  money  for  trousers." 

"B — ^b — ^but,  wife,  and  the  Ouardia  Civil?  I — 1 — am 
lame." 

"You  must  challenge  him  to  a  duel  with  pistol  or  sword 
or,  or " 

And  Dona  Victorina  looked  at  his  false  teeth. 

'^Daughter,  I  never  have  used " 

Dona  Victorina  did  not  let  him  finish.  With  iSl  sublime 
movement  she  jerked  out  his  false  teeth  in  the  middle  of 
the  street,  and  throwing  them  to  the  ground  stepped  on 
them.  He,  half  crying,  and  she  sputtering  away,  arrived 
at  the  house.  At  that  time,  Linares  was  talking  with 
Maria  Clara,  Sinang,  and  Victoria,  and,  as  he  knew  noth- 
ing about  the  quarrel,  the  sudden  arrival  of  his  cousins 
gave  him  a  shock.  Maria  Clara  was  lying  on  a  sofa  among 
pillows  and  blankets,  and  was  not  a  little  surprised  at 
the  doctor's  new  physiogomy. 

"Cousin,"  said  Doiia  Victorina,  "you  have  got/to  chal- 
lenge the  alferez  immediately  to  a  duel,  or "  ^ 


186  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

*'^And  why?  what  for?"  asked  Linares,  surprised. 

"You  challenge  him  right  off,  or  I  will  tell  them  all 
who  you  are/' 

"But,  Dona  Vietorina  ?' 

The  three  young  women  looked  at  one  another. 

"The  alferez  has  insulted  us.  The  old  witch  came  down 
\vith  her  whip,  and  that  thing  there  allowed  it  all.  A 
man  V 

"Pshaw  P  said  Sinang.  "They  have  been  fighting  and 
we  haven't  seen  it.'' 

"The  alferez  has  broken  the  doctor's  teeth,"  added  Vic- 
toria. 

"This  very  day  we  are  going  to  Manila.  You  stay  here 
to  challenge  him  to  a  duel,  and,  if  you  don't,  I'll  tell  Don 
Santiago  that  all  that  you  have  told  him  is  a  lie.  I  will 
tell  him '' 

"But,  Dona  Vietorina!  Dona  Vietorina!"  interrupted 
Jjinares,  pale  and  going  closer  to  lier.     "Ton  keep  quiet. 

Don't  make  me  call  to  mind" and  he  added  in  a  low 

voice— "Don't  be  imprudent,  especially  just  now." 

Just  at  that  time,  when  this  was  going  on.  Captain 
Tiago  arrived  home  from  the  cock-pit.  He  was  down- 
hearted.    He  had  lost  his  Idsalc. 

But  Doiia  Vietorina  did  not  give  him  much  time  to  sigh. 
In  a  few  words,  and  with  many  insults,  she  related  to  him 
what  had  passed,  she,  of  course,  trying  to  put  herself  in  a 
good  light. 

"Linares  is  going  to  challenge  him.  Do  you  hear?  If 
he  don't,  I  won't  let  him  marry  your  daughter.  Don't  you 
permit  it.    If  he  has  no  courage,  he  does  not  merit  Clarita." 

"Then  you  are  going  to  marry  this  gentleman?"  asked 
Sinang,  with  her  jolly  eyes  full  of  tears.  "I  knew  that 
you  were  discreet,  but  I  did  not  think  you  so  fickle." 

Maria  Clara,  pale  as  wax,  raising  herself  half  up,  looked 
at  her  father  with  frightened  eyes,  and  then  at  Dona  Vie- 
torina and  Linares.  The  latter  turned  red  in  the  face. 
Captain  Tiago  looked  down,  and  the  seiiora  added: 

"Clarita,  bear  it  in  mind,  and  never  marry  a  man  who 
does  not  wear  trousers.  You  expose  yourself  to  insults 
like  a  dog,  if  you  do." 


The  Two  Senoras.  187 

But  the  young  maiden  did  not  reply  and  said  to  her 
friends : 

"Take  me  to  my  room,  for  I  cannot  go  alone." 

They  helped  her  to  her  feet,  and,  leaning  her  marble- 
like head  on  pretty  Sinang's  shoulder,  and,  with  the  arms 
of  her  friend  around  her  waist,  she  went  to  her  bedroom. 

That  night  the  doctor  and  his  wife  collected  their  things 
together,  submitted  their  account  to  Captain  Tiago — ^which 
amounted  to  several  thousand  pesos — and  very  early  on 
the  following  day,  left  for  Manila  in  the  Captain's 
carriage.  To  timid  Linares  they  intrusted  the  role  of 
the  avenger. 


188  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE   ENIGMA. 

As  Lucas  had  announced,  Ibarra  arrived  the  next  day. 
His  first  visit  was  to  the  family  of  Captain  Tiago,  with  the 
object  of  seeing  Maria  Clara  and  telling  her  that  His 
Most  Illustrious  Greatness  had  already  reconciled  him  with 
the  Church.  He  brought  a  letter  of  recommendation  to  the 
curate,  written  by  the  hand  of  the  Archbishop  himself. 
Aunt  Isabel  was  not  a  little  delighted  over  it,  for  she  liked 
the  young  man  and  did  not  look  favorably  upon  the  mar- 
riage of  her  niece  with  Linares.  Captain  Tiago  was  not 
at  home. 

"Come  in,^'  said  the  aunt  in  her  half-Castellano  language. 
"Maria,  Don  Crisostomo  is  again  in  the  grace  of  God.  The 
Archbishop  has  dis-excommunicated  him." 

But  the  young  man  could  not  advance.  His  smile  froze 
on  his  lips,  and  words  fled  from  his  mind.  Linares  was 
standing  next  to  Maria  Clara  on  the  balcony,  interweav- 
ing nosegays  with  the  flowers  and  leaves  on  the  climbing 
plants.  On  the  floor,  were  scattered  roses  and  sampagas. 
Maria  Clara  was  leaning  back  on  a  sofa,  pale,  pensive,  her 
look  sad,  playing  with  her  ivory  fan.  But  the  fan  was  not 
as  white  as  her  poor  fingers. 

At  the  presence  of  Ibarra,  Linares  turned  pale  and  Maria 
Clara^s  cheeks  were  tinged  with  carmine.  She  tried  to 
rise,  but  her  strength  failing  her,  she  cast  her  eyes  upon 
the  floor,  and  let  fall  her  fan. 

An  embarrassing  silence  reigned  for  several  seconds. 
Finally,  Ibarra  was  able  to  advance,  and  tremblingly  mur- 
mured : 

"I  have  just  arrived  and  have  hastened  to  see  you  .  .  I 
find  that  you  are  better  than  I  thought." 

Maria  Clara  seemed  to  have  turned  dumb.     She  could 


The  Enigma.  189 

not  pronoiince  a  single  word,  and  continued  to  keep  her 
eyes  on  the  floor. 

Ibarra  surveyed  Linares  with  a  look  which  the  modest 
young  man  bore  with  considerable  haughtiness. 

"Well,  I  see  that  my  arrival  was  not  expected,"  he  said 
slowly.  "Maria,  pardon  me  for  not  having  announced 
my  coming.  Some  other  day  I  will  be  able  to  explain  to 
you  my  conduct.^' 

These  words  were  accompanied  with  a  look  at  Linares. 
The  maiden  raised  her  eyes  to  Ibarra,  those  beautiful  eyes, 
full  of  purity  and  melancholy,  so  supplicating  and  sweet 
that  Ibarra  stopped  confused. 

"May  I  come  to-morrow  ?" 

"You  know  that  on  my  part  you  are  always  welcome," 
replied  she,  scarcely  able  to  pronounce  the  words. 

Ibarra  walked  away,  apparently  tranquil ;  but  a  tempest 
raged  in  his  mind,  and  his  heart  was  chilled.  What  he 
had  just  seen  and  felt  was  incomprehensible.  What  was 
it  ?    Doubt,  apathy  or  treason  ? 

"Oh,  woman !"  he  murmured. 

He  arrived,  without  noticing  it,  at  the  place  where  the 
school  house  was  being  constructed.  The  work  was  well 
along.  Ror  Juan,  with  his  yard  stick  and  plumb-line,  was 
going  to  and  fro  among  the  numerous  workmen.  On  see- 
ing the  young  man  approach,  he  ran  to  meet  him. 

"Don  Crisostomo,"  said  he,  "you  have  arrived  at  last. 
We  were  all  expecting  you.  Just  see  how  the  walls  are 
rising.  They  are  already  a  meter  and  ten  centimeters  high. 
Within  two  days,  they  will  be  as  high  as  a  man.  I  have  not 
allowed  them  to  use  anything  but  the  best  of  wood.  Do 
you  want  to  look  at  the  cellar?" 

The  workmen  saluted  him  respectfully. 

"Here  is  the  system  of  drainage  which  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  add,"  said  ^or  Juan.  "These  underground 
canals  lead  to  a  cesspool  about  thirty  feet  off.  It  will 
serve  to  fertilize  the  garden.  This  was  not  in  the  plans. 
Do  you  object  to  it  ?" 

"Quite  on  the  contrary,  I  approve  of  it  and  I  congratu- 
late you  on  your  idea.  You  are  a  true  architect.  From 
whom  did  you  leam  the  profession  ?" 

"From  myself,  senor,"  replied  the  modest  old  man. 


190  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"0,  yes!  Before  I  forget  it:  let  the  scrupulous  people 
know  (for  some  may  fear  to  speak  to  me)  that  I  am  no 
longer  excommunicated.  The  Archbishop  invited  me  to 
dine  with  him/' 

"Pshaw!  senor!  We  don't  take  any  notice  of  excom- 
munications. We  are  all  excommunicated.  Dather  Da- 
maso  is  himself ;  however,  he  goes  on,  as  fat  as  ever." 

"How's  that?" 

"I  feel  sure  about  it.  A  year  ago  he  gave  the  coadjutor 
a  blow  with  his  cane,  and  the  coadjutor  is  as  much  a  priest 
as  he.    Who  takes  any  notice  of  excommunications,  senor  ?" 

Ibarra  caught  sight  of  Elias  among  the  workmen.  He 
saluted  him  like  the  others,  but  with  a  look  that  gave 
Ibarra  to  understand  that  he  wanted  to  speak  with  him. 

"Nor  Juan,"  said  Ibarra,  "will  you  bring  me  a  list  of 
the  workmen  ?" 

Nor  Juan  disappeared  and  Ibarra  approached  Elias, 
who  was  alone,  raising  a  large  stone  and  loading  it  in  a 
cart. 

"If  you  are  able,  senor,  to  grant  me  some  hours  of  con- 
versation, come  this  afternoon  to  the  shore  of  the  lake  and 
embark  in  my  hanca,  for  I  want  to  talk  with  you  about 
some  serious  matters,"  said  Elias.  Ibarra  gave  a  nod  of 
assent  and  went  away. 

:^or  Juan  brought  the  list,  but  Ibarra  read  it  in  vain. 
The  name  of  Elias  was  not  on  it. 


The  Voice  of  the  Persecuted.         191 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

THE  VOICE   OF  THE  PERSECUTED. 

Before  the  sun  went  down,  Ibarra  put  his  foot  into 
Elias's  hanca  on  the  shore  of  the  lake.  He  seemed  dis- 
pleased about  something,  as  though  he  had  been  opposed 
or  contradicted. 

"Pardon  me,  senor,"  said  Elias  on  seeing  him.  "Pardon 
me  for  having  ventured  to  make  this  appointment  with 
you.  I  would  like  to  speak  with  you  freely,  and  here 
we  have  no  witnesses.     We  can  return  within  an  hour.^' 

"You  are  mistaken,  friend  Elias,"  replied  Ibarra,  trying 
to  smile.  "You  will  have  to  take  me  to  that  town  over 
there,  where  you  see  that  belfry.  Fate  obliges  me  to  go 
there." 

"Fate?" 

"Yes;  on  my  way  here,  I  met  the  alferez.  He  insisted 
upon  accompanying  me.  I  thought  about  you,  and  knew 
that  he  would  recognize  you,  and,  in  order  to  get  rid  of 
him,  I  told  him  that  I  was  going  to  that  town.  Now  I  will 
have  to  remain  there  all  day  to-morrow,  for  the  man  whom 
I  am  going  to  see  will  not  look  for  me  till  to-morrow  after- 
noon." 

"I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  thoughtfulness,  but  you 
might  have  simply  told  him  to  accompany  you,^'  replied 
Elias  with  naturalness. 

"How's  that  ?    And  what  about  you  ?" 

"He  would  never  have  recognized  me.  The  only  time 
that  he  ever  saw  me,  I  don't  believe  that  he  thought  to  take 
down  a  description  of  me." 

"I  am  in  hard  luck !"  sighed  Ibarra,  thinking  of  Maria 
Clara.    '*What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ?" 

Elias  looked  around  him.  They  were  far  from  the  shore. 
The  sun  had  already  sunk  below  the  horizon,  and,  as  the 
twilight  in  these  latitudes  is  very  short,  the  darkness  was 


192  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

falling  over  the  earth,  and  the  disk  of  the  full  moon  was 
already  shining. 

^^Senor/'  replied  Elias,  in  a  grave  voice,  "I  am  the 
spokesman  of  many  unfortunate  people/^ 

"Unfortunate  people.    What  do  you  mean?" 

In  a  few  words,  Elias  referred  to  the  conversation  whicK 
he  had  had  with  the  chief  of  the  tulisanes,  but  omitted  say- 
ing anything  about  the  doubts  which  the  chief  entertained, 
or  the  threats.  Ibarra  listened  attentively,  and,  when  Elias 
concluded  his  story,  a  long  silence  reigned.  Ibarra  was 
the  first  to  break  the  spell. 

"So  that  they  desire ^ 

"Kadical  reforms  in  the  armed  forces,  in  the  religious 
matters,  and  in  the  administration  of  justice.  That  is  to 
say,  they  ask  for  paternal  care  on  the  part  of  the  Govern- 
ment.'^ 

"Eef  orms  ?    In  what  sense  ?" 

"For  example:  more  respect  for  human  dignity;  more 
security  for  the  individual ;  less  power  in  the  hands  of  the 
forces  already  armed ;  fewer  privileges  for  that  body  which 
easily  abuses  them.'' 

"Elias,"  replied  the  young  man,  "I  don't  know  who  you 
are,  but  I  believe  that  you  are  not  an  ordinary  man.  You 
think  and  work  differently  from  the  others.  You  will 
understand  me  if  I  say  to  you  that,  even  if  it  is  true  that 
the  present  state  of  affairs  is  defective,  there  will  be  a 
worse  state  if  there  is  a  change.  I  could  arrange  to  get 
the  assistance  of  my  friends  in  Madrid,  by  paying  them. 
I  could  speak  to  the  Governor  General,  but  all  of  that  would 
accomplish  nothing.  He  has  not  enough  power  to  intro- 
duce reforms,  nor  would  I  ever  take  a  step  in  that  direc- 
tion, for  I  know  very  well  that,  if  it  is  true  that  these  re- 
ligious corporations  have  their  defects,  they  are  now  neces- 
sities.   They  are  what  you  might  call  a  necessary  evil." 

Elias  raised  his  head  and  looked  astonished. 

"Do  you  believe,  senor,  in  necessary  evils?"  he  asked, 
his  voice  slightly  trembling.  "Do  you  believe  that  in  order 
to  do  good  it  is  necessary  to  do  evil  ?" 

"!N"o.  I  look  upon  it  as  a  violent  remedy  which  we  have 
to  make  use  of  to  cure  an  illness.  To  illustrate  further^ 
the  country  is  an  organism  which  is  suffering  from  a 


The  Voice  of  the  Persecuted.         193 

chronic  illness,  and,  in  order  to  cure  it,  the  Government 
finds  itself  compelled  to  use  medicines,  hard  and  violent, 
if  you  wish,  but  useful  and  necessary/' 

"He  is  a  bad  doctor,  senor,  who  seeks  to  cure  the  symp- 
toms and  suppress  them  without  trying  to  find  the  origin 
of  the  illness,  or  knowing  it,  fears  to  attack  it.  The 
Guardia  Civil  has  no  other  end  than  this :  the  suppression 
of  crime  by  terror  and  force.  This  end  it  neither  fulfills 
nor  carries  out  except  in  chance  instances.  And  you  have 
to  take  into  account  that  society  can  be  severe  with  in- 
dividuals only  after  she  has  furnished  all  means  necessary 
for  their  perfect  morality.  In  our  country,  since  there  is 
no  society,  since  the  people  and  the  Government  do  not 
form  a  unity,  the  latter  ought  to  be  indulgent,  not  only  be- 
cause indulgence  is  necessary,  but  because  the  individual, 
neglected  and  abandoned  by  Government,  has  less  self  re- 
sponsibility than  if  he  had  been  enlightened.  Besides,  fol- 
lowing out  your  comparison,  the  medicine  applied  to  the 
evils  of  the  country  is  so  much  of  a  destroyer  that  its  ef- 
fect is  only  felt  on  the  sane  parts  of  the  organism.  These 
it  weakens  and  injures.  Would  it  not  be  more  reasonable 
to  fortify  and  strengthen  the  infirm  organism  and  mini- 
mize a  little  the  violence  of  the  medicine  ?" 

''To  weaken  the  Guardia  Civil  would  be  to  put  the  se- 
curity of  the  towns  in  danger." 

"The  security  of  the  towns !"  exclaimed  Elias  with  bit- 
terness. "The  towns  have  had  the  Guardia  Civil  for  nearly 
fifteen  years  and  what  is  the  result?  We  still  have  tuli- 
sanes,  we  still  hear  of  them  sacking  towns,  and  they  still 
make  their  attacks  on  people  on  the  roads.  Eobberies  con- 
tinue and  the  robbers  are  not  punished.  Crime  exists  and 
the  real  criminal  goes  free,  but  not  so  with  the  peaceful 
inhabitants  of  the  town.  Ask  any  honorable  citizen  if  he 
looks  upon  this  institution  as  a  good,  as  a  protection  by 
the  Government,  or  as  an  imposition,  a  despotism  whose 
excesses  do  more  harm  than  the  violence  of  the  criminals. 
Communication  between  people  is  paralyzed,  for  they  fear 
to  be  maltreated  for  trifling  causes.  More  importance  is 
attached  to  the  formality  of  the  law  than  to  the  basal 
principle  of  it, — ^the  first  symptom  of  incapacity  in  gov- 
ernment.   The  heads  of  the  organization  consider  it  their 


194  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

first  duty  to  make  people  salute  them,  either  of  their  own 
will  or  by  force,  even  in  the  darkness  of  night.  In  this, 
their  inferior  officers  imitate  them  and  maltreat  and  fleece 
the  poor  countrymen.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  sacred- 
ness  of  the  fireside.  There  is  no  security  for  the  in- 
dividual. What  have  the  people  accomplished  by  overcom- 
ing their  wrath  and  by  waiting  for  justice  at  the  hands  of 
others?  Ah!  senor,  if  you  call  that  preserving  the 
order " 

^'1  agree  with  you  that  there  are  evils,''  replied  Ibarra. 
'^But  we  have  to  accept  those  evils  for  the  good  which  ac- 
companies them.  This  institution  may  be  imperfect,  but 
believe  me,  by  the  terror  which  it  inspires,  it  prevents  the 
number  of  criminals  from  increasing.'' 

"You  might  better  say  that  by  that  terror  it  increases 
the  number  of  criminals,"  said  Elias,  correcting  him.  "Be- 
fore this  body  was  created,  almost  all  the  evildoers,  with 
the  exception  of  a  very  few,  were  criminals  because  of  their 
hunger.  They  pillaged  and  robbed  in  order  to  live.  That 
famine  once  passed  over  and  hunger  once  satisfied,  the 
roads  were  again  free  from  criminals.  It  was  sufficient 
to  have  the  poor  but  valiant  cuaderilleros  chase  them,  with 
their  imperfect  arms — that  body  of  men  so  often  calum- 
niated by  those  who  have  written  upon  our  country,  those 
men  who  have  three  legal  rights,  to  do  their  duty,  to  fight 
and  to  die.  And  for  all  that,  a  jest  as  recompense,  j^ow 
there  are  tulisanes  who  will  be  tulisanes  all  their  lives.  A 
crime  inhumanly  punished,  resistance  against  the  excesses 
of  the  power  which  inflicts  such  punishment,  and  fear  that 
other  atrocities  may  be  inflicted — these  make  them  forever 
members  of  that  society  who  are  bound  by  oath  to  kill  and 
die*.  The  terrorism  of  the  Guardia  Civil  impressed  upon 
them  closes  forever  the  doors  to  repentance.  And  as  a 
tulisan  fights  and  defends  himself  in  the  mountains  better 
tkan  a  soldier,  whom  he  scorns,  the  result  is  that  we  are 
incapable  of  abating  the  evil  which  we  have  created.  Call 
t#  mind  what  the  prudent  Governor  General  de  la  Torre 
did.  The  amnesty  which  he  granted  to  these  unhappy 
people  has  proved  that  in  these  mountains  the  hearts  of 

*  Author  here  shows  difficulty  in  establishing  American  sov- 
ereignty over  islands  by  military  forces, 


The  Voice  of  the  Persecuted.         195 

men  still  beat,  and  only  await  pardon.  Terrorism  is  use- 
ful only  when  the  people  are  enslaved,  when  the  mountains 
have  no  caverns,  when  the  governing  power  can  station  a 
sentry  behind  every  tree,  and  when  the  slave  has  in  his  body 
nothing  but  a  stomach.  But  when  the  desperado  who  fights 
for  his  life  feels  the  strong  arm  of  that  power,  then  his  " 
heart  beats  and  his  being  fills  with  passion.  Can  terrorism 
put  out  the  fire  which '^ 

"It  confuses  me,  Elias,  to  hear  you  talk  so.  I  would 
believe  that  you  were  right  if  I  did  not  have  my  own  con- 
victions. But  note  this  point — and  do  not  be  ojSended,  for 
I  do  not  include  you — I  look  upon  you  as  an  exception — 
consider  who  those  are  who  ask  for  this  reform.  Almost 
all  are  criminals  or  people  who  are  in  the  way  of  becom- 
ing such.^' 

"Criminals  or  future  criminals;  but  why  are  they  so? 
Because  their  peace  has  been  disturbed,  their  happiness 
taken  away  from  them,  their  dearest  affections  wounded, 
and,  after  asking  protection  from  Justice,  they  have  been 
convinced  that  they  can  secure  it  only  by  their  own  hands, 
by  their  own  efforts.  But  you  are  mistaken,  senor,  if  you 
believe  that  only  criminals  ask  for  it.  Go  from  town  to 
town,  from  house  to  house.  Listen  to  the  secret  sighings 
of  the  family  and  you  will  be  convinced  that  the  evils  which 
the  Guardia  Civil  causes  are  equal  to  if  not  greater  than 
those  which  it  corrects.  Would  you  conclude  then  that  all 
the  citizens  are  criminals  ?  Then,  why  defend  them  from 
the  others  ?    Why  not  destroy  them  ?'' 

"There  is  some  flaw  in  your  reasoning  which  escapes  me 
now.  In  Spain,  the  Mother  Country,  this  body  lends  and 
has  lent  very  useful  services.^' 

"I  do  not  doubt  it.  Perhaps  there  it  is  better  organ- 
ized ;  the  personnel  more  select.  Perhaps,  too,  Spain  needs 
such  a  body,  but  the  Philippines  do  not.  Our  customs,  our 
mode  of  living,  which  are  always  cited  when  any  one  wants 
to  deny  us  a  right,  are  totally  forgotten  when  some  one 
wants  to  impose  something  on  us.  And  tell  me,  senor, 
why  have  not  other  nations  adopted  this  institution,  other 
nations  which  resemble  Spain  more  than  do  the  Philip- 
pines? Is  it  due  to  the  efforts  of  such  an  institution  that 
other  nations  have  fewer  robberies  of  the  railways,  fewer 


196  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

riots,  fewer  assassinations,  and  less  hand-to-hand  fighting 
in  their  great  capitals  ?" 

Ibarra  bowed  his  head  in  meditation.  Afterward  he 
raised  it  and  replied : 

"That  question,  my  friend,  needs  serious  study.  If  my 
investigations  tell  me  that  these  complaints  are  well 
founded,  I  will  write  to  my  friends  in  Madrid,  since  we 
have  no  deputies  to  represent  us.  In  the  meantime,  be- 
lieve me,  the  Government  needs  a  body  like  the  Guardia 
Civil,  which  has  unlimited  power,  in  order  to  make  the 
people  respect  its  authority  and  the  laws  imposed." 

"That  would  be  all  right,  senor,  if  the  Government  were 
at  war  with  the  country ;  but,  for  the  good  of  the  Govern- 
ment, we  ought  not  to  make  the  people  believe  that  they 
are  In  opposition  to  the  law.  Furthermore,  if  that  were 
the  case,  if  we  preferred  force  to  prestige,  we  ought  to  look 
well  to  whom  we  give  this  unlimited  force  or  power,  this 
authority.  Such  great  power  in  the  hands  of  men,  and 
ignorant  men  at  that,  men  full  of  passion,  without  moral 
education,  without  tested  honor — such  a  thing  is  a  weapon 
in  the  hands  of  a  maniac  in  a  multitude  of  unarmed  people. 
I  grant  and  I  will  agree  with  you  that  the  Government 
needs  this  weapon,  but  let  it  choose  that  weapon  well ;  let 
it  choose  the  most  worthy  men  to  bear  it." 

Elias  was  speaking  with  enthusiasm  and  with  fervor. 
His  eyes  glistened  and  his  voice  vibrated.  Then  followed 
a  solemn  pause.  The  hanca,  no  longer  propelled  by  the 
paddle,  floated  tranquilly  on  the  waves.  The  moon  was 
shining  majestically  from  a  sapphire  sky.  Some  lights 
were  glimmering  on  the  shore. 

"And  what  more  do  they  ask  ?"  said  Ibarra. 

"Keforms  in  the  priesthood,"  responded  Elias,  in  a  dis- 
couraged and  sad  tone  of  voice.  "The  unfortunates  ask 
more  protection  against " 

"Against  the  religious  orders  ?" 

"Against  their  oppressors,  senor.^' 

"Have  the  Filipinos  forgotten  what  they  owe  to  these 
orders?  Have  they  forgotten  the  immense  debt  of  grati- 
tude they  owe  to  them  for  having  saved  them  from  error 
and  given  them  the  Faith?  What  they  owe  to  them  for 
protection  against  the  civil  power?    Here  is  one  of  the 


The  Voice  of  the  Persecuted.         197 

evils  which  result  from  not  teaching  the  history  of  the 
country  in  our  schools/' 

Elias,  surprised,  could  scarcely  give  credit  to  what  he 
heard. 

"Senor,"  he  replied  in  a  grave  voice.  "You  accuse  the 
people  of  ingratitude :  permit  me,  one  of  those  who  suffer, 
to  defend  the  people.  Favors,  in  order  to  be  recognized  as 
such,  must  be  done  by  persons  with  disinterested  motives. 
Let  us  consider  in  a  general  way  the  mission  of  the  orders, 
of  Christian  charity,  that  threadbare  subject.  Let  us  lay 
history  aside.  Let  us  not  ask  what  Spain  did  with  the 
Jews,  who  gave  all  Europe  a  Book,  a  religion  and  a  God ! 
Let  us  not  ask  what  Spain  has  done  with  the  Arabic  people 
who  gave  her  culture,  who  were  tolerant  in  religion  and 
who  reawakened  in  her  a  pure  national  love,  fallen  into 
lethargy  and  almost  detroyed  by  the  domination  of  Romans 
and  Goths.  Let  us  omit  all  that.  Do  you  say  that  these 
orders  have  given  us  the  Faith  and  have  saved  us  from 
error?  Do  you  call  those  outward  ceremonies,  faith?  Do 
you  call  that  commerce  in  straps  and  scapularies  religion? 
Do  you  call  those  miracles  and  stories  which  we  hear  every 
day  truth?  Is  that  the  law  of  Jesus  Christ?  To  teach 
such  a  faith  as  this  it  was  not  at  all  necessary  that  a  God 
should  allow  himself  to  be  crucified.  'Superstition  existed 
long  before  the  friars  came  here;  it  was  only  necessary  to 
perfect  it  and  to  raise  the  price  of  the  traffic.  Will  you  tell 
me  that  although  our  religion  of  to-day  is  imperfect,  it  is 
better  than  that  which  we  had  before?  I  will  agree  with 
you  in  that  and  grant  it ;  but  we  have  purchased  it  at  too 
high  a  price  if  we  have  had  to  renounce  our  nationality 
and  independence  for  it ;  when  for  it,  we  have  given  to  the 
priests  our  best  towns,  our  fields,  and  still  give  them  our 
little  savings  in  order  to  buy  religious  objects.  A  foreign 
industry  has  been  introduced  among  us;  we  pay  well  for 
it,  and  are  in  peace.  If  you  speak  of  the  protection  they 
have  afforded  us  against  the  civil  governors  of  the  prov- 
inces, I  would  reply  that  through  them  we  fall  under  the 
power  of  these  governors.  However,  I  recognize  that  a 
true  Faith,  and  a  true  love  for  humanity  guided  the  first 
missionaries  who  came  to  our  shores.  I  recognize  the  debt 
of  gratitude  which  is  due  those  noble  hearts.    I  know  that 


198  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

in  those  days  Spain  abounded  in  heroes  of  all  kinds,  as 
well  in  religion  as  in  politics,  as  well  in  civil  life  as  in 
military.  But  because  the  forefathers  were  virtuous, 
should  we  consent  to  the  abuses  practiced  by  their  degener- 
ate descendants  ?  Because  a  great  good  has  been  done  for 
us,  are  we  guilty  if  we  prevent  ourselves  from  being 
harmed?  The  country  does  not  ask  for  abolition  of  the 
priesthood;  it  only  asks  for  reforms  which  new  circum- 
stances and  new  needs  require." 

"I  love  our  country  as  you  love  it,  Elias.  I  understand 
to  some  extent  what  you  desire.  I  have  heard  with  atten- 
tion what  you  have  said ;  yet,  despite  all  of  that,  my  friend, 
I  believe  we  are  looking  upon  it  with  a  little  prejudice. 
Here,  less  tnan  in  other  thmgs,  I  see  the  necessity  of  re- 
forms." 

"Can  it  be  possible,  senor,"  said  Elias,  discouraged  and 
stretching  out  his  hands.  "Do  you  not  see  the  necessity 
of  reforms,  you  whose  family " 

"Ah !  I  forget  myself  and  I  forget  my  own  injuries  for 
the  sake  of  the  security  of  the  Philippines,  for  the  sake  of 
the  interests  of  Spain,"  interrupted  Ibarra  eagerly.  "To 
preserve  the  Philippines  it  is  necessary  that  the  friars  con- 
tinue as  they  are,  and  in  union  with  Spain  lies  the  wel- 
fare of  our  country." 

Ibarra  had  ceased  speaking,  but  Elias  continued  to  lis- 
ten.    His  face  was  sad,  his  eyes  had  lost  their  brilliancy. 

"The  missionaries  conquered  the  country,  it  is  true," 
he«aid.  "Do  you  think  that  Spain  will  be  able  to  keep  the 
Philippines  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  friars  ?" 

"Yes,  only  through  the  friars.  This  is  the  belief  held 
by  all  who  have  written  on  the  Philippines." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Elias,  discouraged  and  throwing  his 
paddle  ino  the  bottom  of  the  hanca.  "I  did  not  think  that 
you  had  so  poor  a  conception  of  the  Government  and  of  the 
country." 

Ibarra  replied :  "I  love  our  country,  not  only  because  it 
is  the  duty  of  all  men  to  love  the  country  to  which  they 
owe  their  being,  not  only  because  my  father  taught  me 
so;  but  also  because  my  mother  was  a  native,  an  Indian, 
and  because  all  my  most  beautiful  memories  live  in  these 


The  Voice  of  the  Persecuted.  199 

islands.  I  love  it  too,  because  I  owe  it  my  happiness  and 
will  continue  to  do  so/' 

"And  I,  I  love  it  because  I  owe  to  it  my  misfortunes/' 
said  Elias. 

'TTes,  my  friend,  I  know  that  you  are  suffering,  that 
you  are  unfortunate,  and  that  this  makes  you  see  a  dark 
future  and  influences  your  way  of  thinking.  For  this  rea- 
son, I  make  allowance  for  your  complaints.  If  I  were  able 
to  appreciate  the  motives,  if  I  had  known  part  of  that 
past '' 

"My  misfortunes  have  another  source.  If  I  had  known 
that  they  would  have  been  of  usefulness,  I  would  have  re- 
lated them,  for  aside  from  that,  I  make  no  secret  of  them. 
They  are  well  enough  known  by  many.'' 

"Perhaps  knowing  them  would  rectify  my  opinions.  You 
know  I  do  not  rely  much  upon  theories;  facts  are  better 
guides." 

Elias  reinained  pensive  for  some  moments. 

"If  that  is  the  case,  senor,"  he  replied,  'T!  will  relate 
briefly  the  history  of  my  misfortunes." 


200  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTEE  XXXI. 

ELIAS'S   FAMILY. 

''Some  sixty  years  ago  my  grandfather  lived  in  Manila 
and  kept  books  for  a  Spanish,  merchant.  My  grandfather 
was  then  very  young,  but  was  married  and  had  a  son. 
One  night,  without  any  one  knowing  the  cause,  the  store- 
house was  burned.  The  fire  spread  to  the  store  and  from 
the  store  to  many  others.  The  losses  were  very  heavy. 
Search  was  made  for  the  incendiary,  and  the  merchant 
accused  my  grandfather.  In  vain  he  protested  and,  as  he 
was  poor  and  could  not  pay  celebrated  lawyers,  he  was 
condemned  to  be  whipped  publicly  and  to  be  led  through 
the  streets  of  Manila.  It  was  not  a  great  while  ago  that 
this  infamous  punishment  was  still  in  use  here.  It  was 
a  thousand  times  worse  than  death  itself.  My  grandfather, 
abandoned  by  everybody  except  his  wife,  was  tied  to  a 
horse  and,  followed  by  a  cruel  multitude,  was  whipped  on 
every  corner,  in  the  sight  of  men,  his  brothers,  and  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  numerous  temples  of  the  God  of  Peace. 
When  the  unfortunate  man,  disgraced  forever,  had  sat- 
isfied the  punishment  by  his  blood,  his  tortures  and  his 
cries,  they  untied  him  from  the  horse,  for  he  had  become 
unconscious.  Would  to  God  he  had  died!  As  a  refined 
cruelty,  they  gave  him  liberty.  His  wife,  embarrassed 
with  a  child  at  the  time,  begged  in  vain  from  door  to  door 
for  work  or  alms  that  she  might  care  for  her  sick  hus- 
band and  the  poor  son.  But  who  would  have  confidence  in 
the  wife  of  an  infamous  man  guilty  of  arson?  The  wife, 
then,  had  to  give  herself  up  to  prostitution.^' 

Ibarra  started  from  his  seat. 

*'0h!  do  not  be  disturbed!  Prostitution  was  not  the 
only  dishonor  which  she  and  her  husband  suffered.  Honor 
and  shame  no  longer  existed  for  them.  The  husband 
cured  his  wounds,  and,  with  his  wife  and  son,  hid  in  the 
mountains  of  this  province.     Here  the  woman  brought 


Elias'  Family.  201 

forth  a  still-bom  child,  deformed  and  full  of  disease.  In 
the  mountains,  they  lived  for  several  months,  miserable, 
isolated,  hated  and  fleeing  from  all.  Unable  to  endure 
the  misery,  less  valorous  than  his  wife,  and  growing  des- 
perate at  seeing  her  ill  and  deprived  of  all  aid  and  com- 
fort, my  grandfather  hanged  himself.  The  body  rotted 
in  the  sight  of  the  son,  who  was  now  scarcely  able  to  take 
care  of  his  sick  mother.  The  bad  odor  of  the  rotting  corpse 
disclosed  it  to  Justice.  My  grandmother  was  accused  and 
condemned  for  not  having  given  notice.  The  death  of  her 
husband  was  attributed  to  her  and  people  believed  it.  For, 
what  is  a  wife  of  a  wretch  not  capable  of  doing  after  hav- 
ing prostituted  herself?  If  she  took  oath,  they  said  she 
perjured  herself;  if  she  wept,  they  said  that  it  was  false; 
and  if  she  invoked  God,  they  said  she  blasphemed.  How- 
ever, they  had  some  consideration  for  her  and  waited  for 
her  to  give  birth  to  a  child  before  whipping  her.  You 
know  that  the  friars  spread  the  belief  that  the  only  way 
to  deal  with  the  natives  is  with  the  whip.  Bead  what 
Father  Gaspar  de  San  Augustin  says. 

"Thus  condemned,  the  woman  cursed  the  day  when 
she  would  give  birth  to  the  child,  and  this  not  only  pro- 
longed her  punishment,  but  violated  her  maternal  senti- 
ments. The  woman  delivered  the  child,  and  unfortu- 
nately the  child  was  born  robust.  Two  months  later  the 
sentence  of  whipping  which  had  been  imposed  upon  her 
was  carried  out,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  people, 
who  thought  that  in  this  way  they  were  fulfilling  their 
duty.  No  longer  able  to  be  at  peace  in  these  mountains 
she  fled  with  her  two  sons  to  a  neighboring  province  and 
there  they  lived  like  wild  beasts:  hating  and  hated.  The 
older  boy,  remembering  his  happy  infancy  and  its  contrast 
with  such  great  misery,  became  a  tulisan  as  soon  as  Ke  had 
sufficient  strength.  Before  long  the  bloody  name  of 
Bdlat  extended  from  province  to  province ;  it  was  the  ter- 
ror of  the  towns  and  the  people,  for  he  took  his  revenge 
with  fire  and  blood.  The  younger  boy,  who  had  received 
fjom  Nature  a  good  heart,  resigned  himself  to  his  lot  at 
his  mother's  side.  They  lived  on  what  the  forests  afforded 
them;  they  dressed  in  the  rags  that  travellers  threw 
away.     The  mother  had  lost  her  good  name,  she  was  now 


202  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

known  only  by  such  titles  as  the  'criminal/  the  'prosti- 
tute/ and  the  'horse-whipped  woman.'  The  younger 
brother  was  known  only  as  the  son  of  his  mother,  be- 
cause he  had  such  a  pleasant  disposition  that  they  did 
not  believe  him  to  be  the  son  of  the  incendiary.  Finally 
the  famous  Balat  fell  one  day  into  the  hands  of  Justice. 
Society  had  taught  him  no  good,  but  he  was  asked  to  ac- 
count for  his  crimes.  One  morning  as  the  younger  boy 
was  looking  for  his  mother,  who  had  gone  to  gather  mush- 
rooms from  the  forest,  and  had  not  yet  returned,  he  found 
her  lying  on  the  ground  by  the  roadside,  under  a  cotton- 
tree.  Her  face  was  turned  toward  the  sky,  her  eyes  were 
torn  from  their  sockets,  and  her  rigid  fingers  were  buried 
in  the  blood-stained  earth.  It  occurred  to  the  young  man 
to  raise  his  eyes  and  follow  the  direction  in  which  his 
mother  had  been  looking,  and  there  from  a  limb  of  a  tree 
he  saw  a  basket,  and  in  that  basket  the  bloody  head  of  his 
brother." 

"My  God!''  exclaimed  Ibarra. 

"That  is  what  my  father  must  have  exclaimed/'  con- 
tinued Elias,  coldly.  "The  men  had  cut  the  highwayman 
into  quarters  and  buried  him  in  a  trunk  of  a  tree.  But 
the  limbs  were  saved,  and  were  hung  up  in  different  towns. 
If  you  go  some  time  from  Calamba  to  Santo  Tomas  you 
will  still  find  the  rotting  leg  of  my  uncle  hanging  from 
a  lomhoy  tree.  Nature  has  cursed  the  tree  and  it  neither 
grows  nor  gives  fruit.  They  did  the  same  thing  with  the 
other  members  of  his  body,  but  the  head,  the  head,  as  the 
best  part  of  the  man  and  that  part  which  can  be  most 
easily  recognized,  they  hung  before  the  mother's  cabin." 

Ibarra  bowed  his  head. 

"The  young  man  fled  like  one  that  is  accursed/'  con- 
tinued Elias.  "He  fled  from  town  to  town,  through  moun- 
tains and  valleys,  and  when  at  last  he  thought  he  was  not 
recognized  by  any  one,  he  began  to  work  in  the  store  of  a 
rich  man  in  the  province  of  Tayabas.  His  activity,  his 
agreeable  disposition,  won  for  him  the  esteem  of  those 
who  did  not  know  his  past  life.  By  working  and  saving 
he  managed  to  make  a  little  capital,  and,  as  the  misery 
had  passed  away,  and,  as  he  was  young,  he  thought  that 
he  would  be  happy.    His  good  appearance,  his  youth^  and 


Elias'   Family.  203 

his  quite  iiTiin cumbered  position  won  for  him  the  love  of  a 
girl  in  the  town,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  ask  for  her  hand, 
for  fear  that  she  might  leam  of  his  past.  But  love  be- 
came too  strong  and  both  erred.  The  man,  in  order  to 
save  the  honor  of  the  woman,  risked  all;  he  asked  her 
to  marry  him,  the  papers  were  looked  up  and  all  was 
disclosed.  The  girl's  father  was  rich  and  began  to  prose- 
cute the  man.  The  latter,  however,  did  not  try  to  defend 
himself,  admitted  it  all  and  was  sent  to  jail.  The  young 
woman  gave  birth  to  a  boy  and  a  girl.  They  were  brought 
up  in  seclusion  and  made  to  believe  that  their  father  was 
dead.  This  was  not  difficult,  for  while  the  children  were 
still  young  they  saw  their  mother  die,  and  they  thought 
little  about  investigating  their  genealogy.  As  our  grand- 
father was  very  rich,  our  youth  was  happy.  My  sister 
and  I  were  educated  together,  we  loved  each  other  as  only 
twins  can  when  they  know  no  other  love.  While  very 
young,  I  went  to  study  in  the  Jesuit  College,  and  my  sis- 
ter, in  order  that  we  might  not  be  entirely  separated,  went 
to  the  Concordia  boarding  school.  Our  short  education 
having  been  ended,  for  we  only  wished  to  be  farmers,  we 
returned  to  the  town  to  take  possession  of  the  inheritance 
which  was  left  us  by  our  grandfather.  We  lived  happily 
for  some  time ;  the  future  smiled  on  us ;  we  had  many  serv- 
ants ;  our  fields  bore  good  crops ;  and  my  sister  was  on  the 
eve  of  being  married  to  a  young  man  who  loved  her  and 
to  whom  she  was  well  suited.  On  account  of  some  pe- 
cuniary questions,  and,  because  my  character  was  then 
haughty,  I  lost  the  good  will  of  a  distant  relative,  and  he 
threw  in  my  face  one  day  my  dark  birth  and  my  infamous 
ancestry.  I  thought  it  a  calumny  and  demanded  satisfac- 
tion. The  tomb  in  which  so  much  grief  was  sleeping  was 
opened  again  and  the  truth  came  out.  I  was  confounded. 
To  make  the  misfortune  greater,  we  had  had  for  some 
years  an  old  servant  who  had  always  suffered  all  my  caprices 
without  ever  leaving  us.  He  contented  himself  by  weep- 
ing and  crying  while  the  other  servants  jested  with  him. 
I  do  not  know  how  my  relative  found  it  out;  the  fact  is 
that  he  summoned  this  old  man  before  the  court  and  made 
him  tell  the  truth.  The  old  servant  was  my  father,  who 
bad  stuck  fast  to  his  dear  children  and  whom  I  had  mal- 


204  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

treated  many  times.  Our  happiness  disappeared:  I  re- 
nounced our  fortune;  my  sister  lost  her  lover;  and  with 
our  father  we  abandoned  the  town  to  go  to  some  other 
point.  The  thought  of  having  contributed  to  our  disgrace 
and  misfortune,  cut  short  the  life  of  the  old  man,  from 
whose  lips  was  learned  all  the  sorrowful  past.  My  sister 
and  I  were  left  alone. 

"She  wept  a  great  deal,  but,  amid  such  grief  as  they 
piled  upon  us,  she  could  not  forget  her  love.  Without 
complaining,  without  saying  a  word,  she  saw  her  old  lover 
marry  another  girl,  and  I  saw  her  a  little  later  gradually 
become  ill,  without  being  able  to  console  her.  One  day 
she  disappeared.  In  vain  I  searched  for  her  everywhere; 
in  vain  I  asked  for  her  for  six  months.  Afterward  I 
learned  that  during  the  time  while  I  was  searching  for 
her,  one  day  when  the  water  had  risen  in  the  lake,  there 
had  been  found  on  the  beach  at  Calamba  the  body  of  a  girl, 
either  drowned  or  assassinated.  She  had,  they  say,  a 
knife  piercing  her  breast.  The  authorities  of  Calamba 
published  the  fact  in  the  neighboring  towns.  Nobody  pre- 
sented himself  to  claim  the  body;  no  young  woman  had 
disappeared.  From  the  description  which  they  gave  me 
afterward,  from  the  dress,  the  rings,  the  beauty  of  her 
face  and  her  very  abundant  hair,  I  recognized  her  as 
my  poor  sister.  From  that  time,  I  have  been  wandering 
from  province  to  province.  My  fame  and  history  are  in 
the  mouths  of  many  people;  they  attribute  all  sorts  of 
deeds  to  me;  at  times  they  calumniate  me;  but  I  take  no 
notice  of  men  and  continue  on  my  way.  I  have  here 
briefly  related  my  history,  and  that  of  a  judgment  at  the 
hands  of  mankind." 

Eli  as  became  silent  and  continued  rowing. 

"I  believe  that  you  are  not  wrong,"  murmured  Ibarra, 
in  a  low  voice,  'Vhen  you  say  that  justice  ought  to  pro- 
cure the  welfare  of  the  people  by  lifting  up  the  criminals 
and  by  raising  the  standard  of  their  morality.  Only 
.  .  .  that  is  impossible — a  Utopia.  And  then,  where 
is  the  money  for  so  many  new  employees  to  come  from  ?" 

"And  what  are  the  priests  for,  the  priests  who  pro- 
claim peace  and  charity  as  their  mission?  Is  it  more 
meritorious  for  a  priest  to  wet  the  head  of  a  child,  to  give 


Elias'  Family.  205 

it  salt  to  eat,  than  to  awaken  in  the  darkened  conscience 
of  a  criminal  that  spark,  given  by  God  to  every  man,  that 
he  may  seek  to  do  good  ?  Is  it  more  human  to  accompany 
a  criminal  to  the  gallows  than  to  accompany  him  through 
the  difficult  path  which  leads  from  vice  to  virtue?  Are 
not  spies,  executioners  and  Guardias  Civiles  paid?  The 
latter  institution,  besides  being  an  evil,  also  costs  money." 

"My  friend,  neither  you  nor  I,  although  we  wish  it, 
can  accomplish  it." 

"Alone  we  are  nothing,  it  is  true.  Take  up  the  cause 
of  the  people,  unite  them,  listen  to  their  voices,  give 
others  an  example  to  follow,  give  them  the  idea  of  what  is 
called  a  fatherland,  a  patriaT 

"What  the  people  ask  for  is  impossible.  We  must 
wait." 

"To  wait,  to  wait,  is  equivalent  to  suffering  1" 

"If  I  should  ask  it,  they  would  laugh  at  me." 

"And  if  the  people  should  sustain  you?" 

"Never!  I  would  never  be  the  one  to  lead  the  multi- 
tude and  accomplish  by  force  what  the  Government  does 
not  believe  is  opportune.  No!  If  I  ever  saw  the  multi- 
tude armed  for  such  a  purpose,  I  would  put  myself  on 
the  side  of  the  Government.  And  I  would  fight  it,  for 
in  such  a  mob  I  would  not  see  my  country.  I  wish  for  its 
welfare:  that  is  the  reason  that  I  am  erecting  the  school- 
house.  I  look  for  it  through  means  of  instruction,  educa- 
tion and  progress.    Without  light  there  is  no  road." 

"Nor  without  fighting  is  there  liberty,"  replied  Elias. 

"I  do  not  care  for  that  kind  of  liberty." 

"Without  liberty  there  is  no  light,"  replied  the  pilot 
with  enthusiasm.  "You  say  that  you  know  very  little 
about  our  country.  I  believe  it.  You  do  not  see  the  fight 
that  is  impending.  You  do  not  see  the  cloud  on  the  hori- 
zon. The  combat  begins  in  the  sphere  of  ideas,  and  then 
descends  to  the  arena  to  tinge  it  with  blood.  I  hear  the 
voice  of  God.  Woe  to  them  who  resist  it.  History  has 
not  been  written  for  them." 

Elias  was  transformed.  As  he  stood  up,  his  head  un- 
covered, his  manly  face  illumined  by  the  moonlight,  there 
was  something  extraordinary  about  him.  He  shook  his 
long  hair  and  continued ; 


206  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

^'Do  you  not  see  how  all  is  awakening?  Sleep  has 
lasted  for  centuries,  but  one  day  a  thunderbolt  will  fall 
and  new  life  will  be  called  forth.  New  tendencies  are 
animating  the  spirits,  and  these  tendencies  to-day  sepa- 
rated, will  be  united  some  day,  and  will  be  guided  by  God. 
God  has  not  failed  other  peoples,  nor  will  he  fail  ours. 
Their  cause  is  liberty." 

A  solemn  silence  followed  these  words.  In  the  mean- 
time, the  hanca  carried  along  imperceptibly  by  the  waves, 
neared  the  shore.    Elias  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"What  have  I  to  say  to  those  who  have  sent  me?'^  he 
asked,  changing  the  tone  of  his  voice. 

"I  have  already  told  you  that  I  greatly  deplore  their 
condition,  but  for  them  to  wait,  since  evils  are  not  cured 
by  other  evils.    In  our  misfortune,  we  are  all  at  fault." 

Elias  did  not  insist  further.  He  bowed  his  head,  con- 
tinued rowing  and,  bringing  the  hanca  up  to  the  shore, 
took  leave  of  Ibarra  saying: 

"I  thank  you,  Senor,  for  your  condescension.  For  your 
own  interests  I  ask  you  in  the  future  to  forget  me,  and 
never  to  recognize  me  in  whatever  place  you  may  meet 
me." 

And  saying  this,  he  turned  his  hanca  and  rowed  in  the 
direction  of  a  dense  thicket  on  the  beach.  He  seemed  to 
observe  only  the  millions  of  diamonds  which  his  paddle 
lifted  and  which  fell  back  into  the  lake,  where  they  soon 
disappeared  in  the  mystery  of  the  blue  waves. 

Finally,  he  arrived  at  the  place  toward  which  he  had 
been  rowing.  A  man  came  out  of  the  thicket  and  ap- 
proached him: 

"What  shall  I  tell  the  captain?"  he  asked. 

"Tell  him  that  Elias,  if  he  does  not  die  before,  will  ful- 
fill his  word,"  he  replied  gloomily. 

"Then  when  will  you  meet  us?" 

"When  your  captain  thinks  that  the  hour  of  danger  has 
come/* 

"All  right.     Good-bye !" 

"If  I  do  not  die  before,"  murmured  Ellas, 


Changes.  207 


CHAPTER   XXXIL 

CHANGES. 

The  modest  Linares  was  serious  and  very  uneasy.  He 
had  just  received  a  letter  from  Dona  Victorina  which, 
translated  from  the  most  illiterate  Spanish,  and  omitting 
its  many  errors  in  spelling  and  punctuation,  was  as  fol- 
lows: 

"Esteemed  Cousin  : — Within  three  days  I  want  to  know 
from  you  if  you  have  killed  the  alferez  or  he  you.  I  don't 
want  another  day  to  pass  without  this  animal  being  pun- 
ished. If  this  length  of  time  passes  and  still  you  have  not 
challenged  him,  I  will  tell  Don  Santiago  that  you  never 
were  secretary  and  that  you  never  joked  with  Canovas  or 
with  General  Martinez.  I  will  tell  Clarita  that  it  is  all  a 
lie  and  I  will  not  give  you  another  cuarto.  If  you  challenge 
him,  I  promise  you  all  that  you  wish.  If  you  do  not  chal- 
lenge him,  I  will  accept  no  excuses  or  reasons. 

"Your  cousin  who  loves  you  in  her  heart. 

"Victorina  de  los  Reyes  de  db  EspadaS^a. 

"Sampalog,  Monday  Eve,  7  o'clock.^' 

It  was  a  serious  matter.  Linares  knew  Dona  Victorina's 
character  and  knew  what  she  was  capable  of  doing.  To 
reason  with  her  was  out  of  the  question;  to  beg  was  use- 
less; to  deceive  her  worse.  There  was  no  other  remedy 
than  to  challenge. 

"But  what  can  I  do  ?''  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  was  walk- 
ing alone.  "If  he  receives  me  harshly?  If  I  meet  his 
wife?  Who  would  want  to  be  my  second?  The  curate? 
Captain  Tiago?  Cursed  be  the  hour  in  which  I  gave  ear 
to  her  advice !  What  will  this  senorita  say  about  me  ?  Now 
I  am  sorry  to  have  been  secretary  to  all  the  ministers/^ 


208  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

The  good  Linares  was  in  this  sad  soliloquy  when  Father 
Salvi  arrived.  The  Franciscan  was  certainly  thinner  and 
paler  than  usual,  but  his  eyes  shone  with  a  peculiar 
light  and  a  strange  smile  was  seen  on  his  lips. 

"Senor  Linares,  all  alone?"  saluted  the  priest  and  di- 
rected his  steps  to  the  sala,  through  the  half  open  door  of 
which  notes  of  the  piano  were  heard. 

Linares  restrained  a  smile. 

"And  Don  Santiago  ?"  added  the  curate. 

Captain  Tiago  presented  himself  at  that  moment,  kissed 
the  curate's  hand,  took  the  Father's  hat  and  cane  and 
smiled  like  one  who  had  been  blessed. 

"Well,  well!"  said  the  curate,  going  into  the  sala,  fol- 
lowed by  Linares  and  Captain  Tiago.  "I  have  good  news 
from  Manila  which  you  will  all  enjoy.  I  have  received 
letters  from  Manila  which  confirm  the  one  which  Senor 
Ibarra  brought  me  yesterday — so  that,  Don  Santiago,  the 
impediment  is  removed." 

Maria  Clara  was  seated  at  the  piano  between  her  two 
girl  friends.  She  half  rose  to  her  feet  at  this  remark,  but 
her  strength  failed  her  and  she  sat  down  again.  Linares 
turned  pale  and  looked  at  Captain  Tiago,  who  turned  his 
eyes  to  the  floor. 

"This  young  man  really  seems  to  me  a  very  nice  fellow," 
continued  the  curate.  "At  first,  I  judged  him  bad — he  is 
a  little  quick-tempered.  But  he  knows  so  well  how  to  atone 
for  his  faults  afterward,  that  one  cannot  hold  any  grudge 
against  him.  If  it  were  not  for  Father  Damaso  .  .  ."  And 
the  curate  directed  a  quick  glance  at  Maria  Clara.  She 
was  listening  to  all  that  was  going  on  but  without  taking 
her  eyes  off  the  music — in  spite  of  the  concealed  pinches 
which  Sinang  gave  her  to  express  her  joy.  Had  she  been 
alone,  she  would  have  danced. 

"Father  Damaso?"  asked  Linares  without  finishing  the 
sentence. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  curate.  "Father  Damaso  has  said 
that  as  .  .  .  godfather  he  could  not  permit  .  .  .  but  I  believe 
fhat  if  finally,  Seiior  Ibarra  asks  pardon,  which  I  do  not 
doubt  he  will  do,  all  will  be  arranged." 

Maria  Clara  arose,  made  an  excuse  and  retired  to  her 
room,  accompanied  by  Victoria» 


Changes.  209 

"And  if  FatHer  Damaso  does  not  pardon  him?"  asked 
Captain  Tiago,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Then  Maria  Clara  will  see  that  Father  Damaso  is  her 
spiritual  father.  But  I  believe  that  they  will  come  to  an 
understanding." 

At  that  moment,  steps  were  heard  and  Ibarra  appeared, 
followed  by  Aunt  Isabel.  His  presence  on  the  scene  pro- 
duced a  varied  effect.  He  saluted  Captain  Tiago  affably, 
the  latter  not  knowing  whether  to  smile  or  to  weep;  to 
Linares  he  bowed  profoundly.  Father  Salvi  arose  and  ex- 
tended his  hand  to  him  so  affectionately  that  Ibarra  could 
not  suppress  a  look  of  surprise. 

"Do  not  think  it  strange,"  said  Father  Salvi.  "I  was 
just  pa3ring  you  a  compliment." 

Ibarra  thanked  him  and  approached  Sinang. 

"Where  have  you  been  all  day  ?"  she  asked,  with  a  child- 
ish laugh,  '^e  have  been  asking  each  other,  'Where  could 
this  soul  redeemed  from  purgatory  have  gone  ?'  Each  one 
of  us  gave  a  different  answer." 

"And  will  you  not  tell  what  you  said?" 

"No,  that  is  a  secret ;  but  I  will  surely  tell  you  in  private. 
Now  tell  us  where  you  have  been  so  titiat  we  can  see  who 
has  been  able  to  guess  it." 

"No,  that  also  is  a  secret;  but  I  will  tell  you  alone,  if 
the  senores  will  permit." 

"Certainly,  certainly!"  said  Father  Salvi. 

Sinang  took  Crisostomo  to  one  end  of  the  hall.  She  was 
very  happy  with  the  idea  of  knowing  a  secret. 

"Tell  me,  my  little  friend,"  said  Ibarra,  "Is  Maria 
angry  with  me  ?" 

"I  do  not  know,  but  she  says  that  it  is  better  that  you 
should  forget  her  and  then  begins  to  cry.  Captain  Tiago 
wants  her  to  marry  that  gentleman;  Father  Damaso  also 
wishes  it;  but  she  says  neither  yes  nor  no.  This  morning 
when  we  were  asking  for  you,  I  said :  *What  if  he  has  gone 
to  make  love  to  some  one  else  ?'  She  replied  to  me ;  'Would 
to  God  that  he  had !'  and  then  began  to  cry." 

Ibarra  was  serious. 

"Tell  Maria  that  I  want  to  speak  with  her  alone." 

"Alone?"  asked  Sinang,  knitting  her  eyebrows  and  look- 
ing at  him. 


210  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Entirely  alone,  no.  But  so  that  we  may  not  be  seen  by 
that  other  senor." 

"It  is  difficult,  but  don't  worry.    I  will  tell  her/' 

"And  when  will  I  know  the  answer  ?" 

"To-morrow  come  to  the  house  early.  Maria  never  wants 
to  be  alone.  We  keep  her  company.  Victoria  sleeps  by  her 
side  one  night,  and  I  the  next.  To-morrow  night  it  is  my 
turn.  But  listen:  What  is  the  secret?  You  are  going 
without  telling  me  the  principal  thing." 

"That  is  true.  I  was  in  the  town  of  Los  Baiios.  I  went 
up  there  to  do  some  business  in  cocoanut  trees,  since  I  am 
thinking  of  building  a  factory.  Your  father  will  be  my 
partner." 

"Nothing  more  than  that  ?  Give  us  the  secret !"  ex- 
claimed Sinang  in  a  loud  voice  and  in  the  tone  of  a  de- 
frauded usurer.    "I  thought " 

"Take  care.    I  don't  want  you  to  tell  it." 

"I  have  no  desire  to !"  replied  Sinang,  sticking  up  her 
nose.  "If  it  were  something  more  important,  I  would  tell 
it  to  my  friends.  But  to  buy  cocoanuts !  cocoanuts !  Who 
is  interested  in  cocoanuts  ?" 

And  she  went  away  in  haste  to  find  her  girl  friends. 

A  few  moments  afterward,  Ibarra  seeing  that  the  con- 
versation was  lagging,  took  leave  of  the  gathering.  Cap- 
tain Tiago's  expression  was  between  sweet  and  sour; 
Linares  was  silent  and  observing;  and  the  curate,  feign- 
ing to  be  joyful,  was  telling  stories.  None  of  the  girls  had 
returned. 


Playing  Cards  with  the  Shades.       211 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

PLXTING  CARDS  WITH  THE  SHADES. 

A  CLOUDY  sky  hides  the  moon,  and  a  cold  wind,  the  omen 
of  approaching  December,  whirls  the  dry  leaves  and  dust  in 
the  narrow  path  leading  to  the  cemetery. 

Under  the  gate,  three  forms  are  conversing  in  a  low 
tone. 

"Have  you  spoken  to  Elias  ?"  asked  a  voice. 

"No;  you  know  he  is  very  odd  and  discreet.  But  he 
ought  to  be  with  us.     Don  Crisostomo  saved  his  life." 

"I  accepted  the  offer  for  the  same  reason,"  said  the  first 
voice.  "Don  Crisostomo  is  having  my  wife  treated  at  a 
doctor's  house  in  Manila.  I  have  agreed  to  take  charge  of 
the  convent  in  the  attack,  so  that  I  can  settle  my  accounts 
with  the  curate." 

"And  we,  we  will  have  charge  of  the  attack  on  the 
cuartel,  so  that  we  can  say  to  the  members  of  the  Guardia 
Civil  that  our  father  had  sons." 

"How  many  will  there  be  of  you  ?" 

"Five !  Eive  will  be  enough.  Don  Crisostomo's  servant 
says  that  there  will  be  twenty  in  all." 

"And  if  things  don't  turn  out  well?" 

"St !"  said  one,  and  they  all  became  silent. 

In  the  semi-darkness,  a  form  could  be  seen  crawling 
along  the  fence.  From  time  to  time  it  stopped,  as  if  to 
look  behind. 

And  it  did  so  not  without  reason.  Behind,  at  some 
twenty  paces,  came  another  form.  This  one  was  taller  and 
seemed  to  be  darker  than  the  first.  Each  time  that  the 
first  stopped  this  second  one  would  disappear  as  if  the 
earth  had  swallowed  it. 

"They  are  following  me,"  murmured  the  one  ahead. 
'Is  it  a  Guardia  Civil?    Has  the  sacristan  lied?" 

"It  appears  that  the  appointment  is  here,"  said  the  sec- 


212:  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ond,  in  a  low  voice.  "They  are  up  to  something  bad,  when 
the  two  brothers  hide  it  from  me," 

The  first  form  finally  arrived  at  the  gate  of  the  cemetery. 
The  three  who  were  already  there  advanced. 

"Is  it  you?" 

"Is  it  you?" 

"Let  us  separate.  Some  one  is  following  me.  To-mor- 
row we  will  have  the  arms  and  to-morrow  night  will  be  our 
time.     The  cry  is   'Viva  Don  Crisostomo !'     Begone !" 

The  three  persons  disappeared  behind  the  wall.  The 
recent  arrival  hid  himself  in  the  hollow  of  the  gate  and 
waited  silently. 

"Let's  see  who  is  following  me  V  he  murmured. 

The  second  person  came  along  very  cautiously,  and 
stopped  to  look  around. 

"I  have  arrived  late !"  said  he  in  a  half  intelligible  voice. 
^^But  perhaps  they  will  return." 

And,  as  a  fine  rain  began  to  fall  and  threatened  to  con- 
tinue, he  took  refuge  under  the  gate.  Naturally,  he  met 
the  other. 

"Ah !  who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  one  who  had  just  come 
up,  in  a  manly  voice. 

"And  who  are  you?"  replied  the  other  tranquilly. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause.  Each  tried  to  recognize 
the  other  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  and  to  distinguish  the 
other's  features. 

"What  are  you  waiting  here  for?"  asked  the  one  with 
the  heavy  voice. 

"Till  the  clock  strikes  eight,  so  as  to  have  a  game  of 
cards  with  the  dead.  I  want  to  win  some  money  to-night," 
replied  the  other,  in  an  ordinary  tone.  "And  you :  what  do 
you  come  here  for?'^ 

"A — a — for  the  same  thing." 

"Well !  I  am  glad.  So  I  will  not  be  without  a  com- 
panion. I  have  brought  some  cards.  At  the  first  stroke 
of  the  bell,  I  put  down  the  alhur  (the  first  two  cards  put 
on  the  board  in  monte).  At  the  second  stroke,  I  put  down 
the  gallo  (the  second  pair).  The  cards  which  move  after 
I  have  put  them  down,  are  those  which  the  dead  choose 
for  themselves.    Did  you  also  bring  some  cards  ?" 

"No." 


Playing  Cards  with  the  Shades.        213 

"Then?" 

"It  is  simple.  Just  as  you  act  as  T)anker'  for  them,  so 
I  hope  that  they  will  "bank'  for  me."  (In  monte  the  bank- 
er deals  the  cards  and  bets  that  one  of  the  cards  in  either 
the  albur  or  gallo  is  turned  up  by  dealing  off  the  pack,  be- 
fore the  card  chosen  by  the  other  person  is  turned  up.  A 
banker  can  play  against  two  others.) 

"And  if  the  shades  do  not  care  to  ^ank'  ?" 

"What  can  be  done?  The  game  is  not  obligatory  upon 
the  dead.'' 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

"Did  you  come  armed  ?  What  if  you  have  to  fight  with 
the  shades  of  the  dead  ?" 

"I'll  use  my  fists,"  replied  the  taller  of  the  two. 

"Ah !  The  devil !  Now,  I  remember !  The  dead  do  not 
bet  when  there  is  more  than  one  live  person  around.  There 
are  two  of  us." 

"Is  that  true  ?      Well,  I  don't  want  to  go  away." 

"Nor  I.  I  need  some  money,"  replied  the  smaller  one. 
"But  let  us  do  this:  We  will  decide  by  the  cards  which 
one  shall  go  away." 

"All  right !"  replied  the  other,  showing  a  certain  amount 
of  displeasure. 

"Then  let  us  go  in.    Have  you  any  matches?" 

They  entered  the  cemetery  and  in  the  obscurity  they 
searched  for  a  place  where  they  might  decide  the  question 
with  the  cards.  They  soon  found  a  niche  upon  which  they 
sat  down.  The  shorter  one  took  from  his  hat  some  play- 
ing cards  and  the  other  lighted  a  match. 

Each  one  looked  at  the  other  in  the  light  which  the 
match  made,  but,  judging  from  the  expression  on  their 
faces,  they  did  not  recognize  each  other.  However,  we 
can  recognize  in  the  taller  one,  the  one  with  the  manly 
voice,  Elias;  and  in  the  smaller  one,  Lucas,  with  the  scar 
on  his  cheek. 

"Cut  the  cards !"  said  the  latter,  without  ceasing  to  look 
at  the  other. 

He  pushed  aside  some  bones  which  were  found  on  the 
niche  and  turned  up  an  ace  and  a  jack  for  the  altur,  Elias 
lighted  one  match  after  another. 

"On  the  jack !"  said  he  and,  in  order  to  show  which  of 


214  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

the  cards  he  was  betting  on,  he  placed  upon  it  a  piece  of 
vertebrae. 

"I  deal  V  said  Lucas  and,  after  turning  up  four  or  five 
cards,  an  ace  came  up. 

"You  have  lost,"  he  added.  "Now  leave  me  alone  so 
that  I  may  win  some  money." 

Elias,  without  saying  a  word,  disappeared  in  the  dark- 
ness. 

Some  minutes  afterward,  the  clock  in  the  church  struck 
eight  and  the  bell  announced  the  hour  of  prayer.  But 
Lucas  did  not  invite  anybody  to  play  with  him.  He  did 
not  call  out  the  shades,  as  superstition  demanded.  Instead, 
he  uncovered  his  head,  murmured  some  prayers  and  crossed 
himself  with  the  same  fervor  as  the  chief  of  the  Brother- 
hood of  the  Most  Sacred  Rosary  would  have  done  at  that 
moment. 

The  drizzling  rain  continued  all  night.  At  nine  o'clock 
the  streets  were  dark  and  lonely.  The  little  cocoanut  oil 
lanterns,  which  each  citizen  had  to  hang  out  in  front 
of  his  house  gave  light  scarcely  a  meter  around.  It  seemed 
as  though  they  had  been  lighted  so  one  might  see  the  dark- 
ness. 

Two  Civil  Guards  were  walking  from  one  side  of  the 
street  to  the  other  near  the  church. 

"It  is  cold,"  said  one  in  Tagalog  with  a  Visayan  accent. 
"We  aren't  catching  any  sacristans.  There  is  nobody  to 
clean  out  the  alferez's  hen  yard  and  we  ought  to  catch  some 
sacristan  and  make  him  do  it.  Since  that  one  was  killed, 
they  have  taken  warning.    I  am  getting  tired  of  this." 

"So  am  I,"  replied  the  other.  "Nobody  commits  any 
robbery;  no  one  disturbs  the  peace;  but,  thank  God,  they 
say  that  Elias  is  in  town.  The  alferez  says  that  the  one 
who  catches  him  will  be  free  from  whippings  for  three 
months." 

"Ah!  Do  you  know  his  identification  marks?"  asked 
the  Visayan. 

"I  certainly  do !  Stature,  tall,  according  to  the  alferez* s 
description;  ordinary,  according  to  the  description  of 
Father  Ddmaso ;  color,  brunette ;  eyes,  black ;  nose,  regular ; 
mouth,  regular;  beard,  none;  hair,  black." 

"Ah !    And  particular  marks  ?" 


Playing  Cards  with  the  Shades.        215 

'Camisa,  black;  pantaloons,  black;  a  wood-cutter- 


"Ah !    He  will  not  escape.    I  think  I  see  him  already/' 

"I  don't  confuse  him  with  anybody  else,  although  you 
might  think  so." 

Both  soldiers  continued  their  beats. 

By  the  light  of  the  lantern  two  forms  could  again  be 
seen,  one  following  the  other  cautiously.  A  forcible 
*'Quien  vivef"  stops  them  both.  The  first  one  replied 
"Espana/'  in  a  trembling  voice. 

The  two  soldiers  drag  him  along  and  bring  him  up  to  the 
light,  to  recognize  him.  It  was  Lucas,  but  the  soldiers 
were  in  doubt  and  questioned  each  other  with  a  glance. 

**The  alferez  said  nothing  about  his  having  a  scar,''  said 
the  Visayan  in  a  low  voice,    '^here  are  you  going  ?" 

"To  order  a  mass  for  to-morrow.'' 

"Have  you  not  seen  Elias  ?" 

"I  do  not  know  him,  senor,"  replied  Lucas. 

"You  dunce !  I  am  not  asking  if  you  know  him.  Nor 
do  we  know  him.    I  am  asking  you  if  you  have  seen  him." 

"No,  senor." 

"Listen  closely.  I  will  give  you  his  description.  Stature, 
at  times  tall,  at  times  regular;  skin  and  eyes,  black;  all 
the  others  are  regular,"  said  the  Visayan.  *T)o  you  know 
him  now?" 

"No,  senor,"  replied  Lucas,  frightened. 

"Then,  sulung!  (Go  along).  You  brute!  You  ass!" 
And  they  gave  him  a  shove. 

"Do  you  know  why  Elias  is  tall,  according  to  the  alferez, 
and  why  he  is  short,  according  to  the  curate?"  asked  the 
Tagalo  of  the  other. 

"No." 

"Because  the  alferez  was  stuck  m  a  mud  hole  when  he 
observed  him,  and  the  curate  was  on  foot  when  he  saw 
him." 

"That's  right!"  exclaimed  the  Visayan.  'TTou  are 
bright.    Why  are  you  a  Guardia  Civil  f 

"I  haven't  been  always.  I  was  a  smuggler  at  one  time," 
replied  the  Tagalo g  boastingly. 

But  another  form  attracted  their  attention.  They  called 
out  ''Quien  Vive  f  and  brought  him  up  to  the  light.  This 
time  it  was  Elias  himself. 


216  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

''Where  are  you  going?'' 

"I  am  pursuing,  senor,  a  man  who  has  whipped  and 
threatened  my  brother.  He  has  a  scar  on  his  face  and 
his  name  is  Elias " 

"Ha?"  exclaimed  the  two,  and  looked  at  each  other 
frightened. 

And  at  once  they  started  on  a  run  toward  the  church, 
where  a  few  minutes  before  Lucas  had  disappeared. 


The  Discovery.  217 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE    DISCOVERY. 

The  bell  announces  the  hour  of  evening  prayer.  On 
hearing  the  religious  sound,  all  stop,  leave  their  work  and 
uncover  their  heads;  the  laborer,  coming  from  the  fields 
on  the  carabao's  back,  suspends  the  song  to  which  the  ani- 
mal keeps  step,  and  prays;  the  women  in  the  middle  of 
the  street  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  move  their  lips 
with  affectation  so  that  no  one  may  doubt  their  devotion: 
the  man  stops  fondling  his  game-cock  and  recites  the  An- 
gelus  so  that  he  may  have  good  luck ;  in  the  houses,  they 
pray  in  a  loud  voice.  .  .  .  every  sound  which  is  not  a  part 
of  the  Ave  Maria  is  dissipated,  silenced. 

However,  the  curate,  without  his  hat,  hastily  crosses  the 
street,  scandalizing  many  old  women.  And  still  more 
scandalous,  he  directs  his  steps  towards  the  alferez's 
house.  The  devout  women  think  that  it  is  time  for  them 
te  stop  the  movement  of  their  lips  and  to  kiss  the  curate's 
hand,  but  Father  Salvi  takes  no  notice  of  them.  To-day 
he  finds  no  pleasure  in  placing  his  bony  hand  under  a 
Christian's  nose.  Some  important  business  must  be  oc- 
cupying him  that  he  should  so  forget  his  own  interests  and 
those  of  the  Church ! 

He  goes  up  the  stairs  and  knocks  impatiently  at  the 
alferez's  door.  The  latter  appears,  his  eyebrows  knit  and 
followed  by  his  better  half,  who  smiles  malignantly. 

"Ah,  Father  Curate!  I  was  just  going  to  see  you. 
Your  he-goat.  .  .  ." 

"I  have  a  most  important  matter.  .  .  ." 

"I  can't  allow  your  goat  to  go  on  breaking  down  my 
fence.  .  .     I'll  shoot  him  if  he  gets  in  there  again." 

"That  is  if  you  are  alive  to-morrow,"  said  the  curate, 
breathless,  and  directing  himself  toward  the  sala. 

"What !  do  you  think  that  that  seven-months-old  ptippy 
will  kill  me?    I'll  kick  him  to  pieces." 


218  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Father  Salvi  stepjoed  back  and  looked  instinctively  at 
the  feet  of  the  alferez. 

"Whom  are  you  talking  about?"  asked  he,  trembling. 

"Of  whom  could  I  be  talking  but  that  big  blockhead 
who  proposes  to  challenge  me  to  a  duel  with  revolvers  at 
one  hundred  paces  ?'^ 

"Ah!"  sighed  the  curate,  and  added:  "I  have  come  to 
speak  about  a  most  urgent  matter  which  seriously  con- 
cerns the  life  of  all  of  us." 

"Seriously  I"  repeated  the  alferez,  turning  pale  in  turn. 
"Does  this  3'oung  fellow  shoot  well.  .   ?" 

"I  am  not  speaking  about  him." 

"Then?" 

The  friar  pointed  to  the  door  which  the  alferez  shut  in 
his  customary  manner,  by  a  kick.  The  alferez  usually 
found  his  hands  superfluous.  An  imprecation  and  a  groan 
from  without  were  heard. 

"You  brute.  You  have  cut  open  my  head!"  cried  his 
wife. 

"Now  unbosom  yourself,"  said  he  to  the  curate  in  a 
quiet  manner.  The  latter  looked  at  him  for  some  time. 
Afterward  he  asked,  in  that  nasal  and  monotonous  priest's 
voice : 

"Did  you  see  how  I  came  running?" 

"Umph!  I  thought  something  was  the  matter  with 
you." 

"When  I  leave  my  duties  in  this  manner  there  are 
grave  motives." 

"And  what  is  it?"  asked  the  other,  stamping  his  foot 
on  the  floor.  ' 

"Calm  yourself !" 

"Then,  why  did  you  come  in  such  a  hurry?" 

The  curate  approached  him  and  asked  in  a  mysterious 
way: 

"Don't — ^you — know — anything — new  ?" 

The  alferez  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You  confess  that  you  know  absolutely  nothing?" 

'^hat !  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  about  Elias,  whom  your 
sacristan  mayor  hid  last  night?"  he  asked. 

"No,  no!  I  don't  speak  of  such  matters  now,"  replied 
the  curate,  in  a  bad  humor.  "I  am  talking  about  a  great 
danger." 


The  Discovery,  219 

"Then  d n  it !    Let  it  out/' 

"Now  then/'  said  the  friar  slowly  and  with  a  certain 
disdain,  "you  will  see  again  how  important  we  priests  are. 
The  lowest  layman  is  worth  a  regiment,  so  that  a  cur- 
ate. .  .  ." 

And  then  lowering  his  voice  in  a  very  mysterious  man- 
ner: 

"I  have  discovered  a  great  conspiracy." 

The  alferez  started  and  looked  at  the  friar  astonished. 

"A  terrible  and  well-laid  conspiracy,  which  is  to  break 
out  this  very  night.'' 

"This  very  night!"  exclaimed  the  alferez,  moving  at 
first  toward  Father  Salvi,  and  then  running  after  his  re- 
volver and  saber,  which  were  hanging  on  the  wall :  "Whom 
shall  I  arrest?    Whom  shall  I  arrest?"  he  cried. 

"Be  calm.  It  is  not  yet  time,  thanks  to  my  great 
haste.     At  eight  o'clock." 

"I'll  shoot  them  all  V 

"Listen !  This  afternoon  a  woman,  whose  name  I  must 
not  mention  (it  is  a  secret  of  the  confessional)  came  to 
me  and  disclosed  it  all.  At  eight  o'clock  they  will  take 
the  cuartel  by  surprise,  sack  the  convent,  seize  the  Gov- 
ernment's steamboat  and  assassinate  all  the  Spaniards.'* 

The  alferez  was  stupified. 

"The  woman  has  not  told  more  than  that,"  added  the 
curate.  ' 

"Has  not  told  you  more  ?    Then  I'll  arrest  her !" 

"No ;  I  cannot  consent  to  it.  The  tribunal  of  penitence 
is  the  throne  of  God  of  forgiveness." 

"Neither  God  nor  forgiveness  count  in  this  matter.  I'll 
arrest  her." 

"You  are  losing  your  head.  What  you  ought  to  do  is 
to  prepare  yourself.  Arm  your  soldiers  quietly  and  put 
them  in  ambush.  Send  me  four  Guards  for  the  convent 
and  notify  the  people  on  the  Government  steamboat." 

"The  boat  is  not  here.  I'll  send  to  other  sections  for 
aid." 

"They  would  notice  that  and  would  not  go  on  with  their 
plans.  No,  don't  do  that.  What  is  important  is  that  we 
catch  them  alive  and  make  them  talk;  I  say,  you  will 
make  them  disclose  the  conspiracy.     I,  in  the  capacity 


220  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

of  a  priest,  ought  not  to  mix  myself  m  these  matters, 
Now's  your  chance !  Here  you  can  win  crosses  and  stars. 
I  ask  only  that  you  make  it  evident  that  I  am  the  one 
who  warned  you/' 

"It  will  be  made  evident.  Father,  it  will  be  made  evi- 
dent !  And  perhaps  a  mitre  will  fall  to  you !"  replied  the 
radiant  alferez. 

"Be  sure  and  send  me  four  un-uniformed  Civil  Guards, 
eh?  Be  discreet!  To-night  at  eight  o'clock,  it  will  rain 
stars  and  crosses." 

While  this  was  going  on,  a  man  came  running  down 
the  road  which  led  to  Ibarra's  house,  and  quickly  went 
up  the  stairs. 

"Is  the  Senor  at  home?"  asked  Elias  of  the  servant. 

"He  is  in  his  laboratory  at  work." 

Ibarra,  in  order  to  pass  the  time  while  he  impatiently 
waited  for  the  hour  when  he  could  make  explanations  to 
Maria  Clara,  had  gone  to  work  in  his  cabinet. 

'^Ah,  is  it  you,  Elias?"  he  exclaimed.  "I  was  thinking 
about  you.  Yesterday,  I  forgot  to  ask  you  for  the  name 
of  that  Spaniard  in  whose  house  your  grandfather  lived." 

"Don't  bother  yourself,  Senor,  about  me.  .  .  " 

"Look!"  continued  Ibarra,  without  noting  the  agita- 
tion of  the  young  man,  and  putting  a  piece  of  bamboo 
to  a  flame.  "I  have  made  a  great  discovery.  This  bam- 
boo is  incombustible.  .  ." 

"Don't  talk  about  bamboo  now,  Senor.  Talk  about  col- 
lecting your  papers  and  fleeing  in  a  minute." 

Ibarra  looked  at  him  surprised,  and,  on  seeing  the  seri- 
ousness in  Elias's  countenance,  he  dropped  the  object 
which  he  had  in  his  hands. 

"Burn  everything  that  can  possibly  implicate  you  in 
any  way  and  put  yourself  in  a  more  secure  place  within 
an  hour." 

"And  what  for?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"Put  all  that  you  have  of  value  in  a  secure  place.  .  ." 

"And  what  for?" 

'*Bum  all  papers  written  by  you  or  to  you.  The  most 
innocent  can  be  interpreted  in  a  bad  sense." 

"But  what  for?" 

"What  for?     Because  I  have  just  discovered  a  con- 


The  Discovery.  221 

spiracy  which  will  be  attributed  to  you  in  order  to  ruin 
you/' 

"A  conspiracy  ?    And  who  has  planned  it  ?" 

"I  have  been  unable  to  learn  the  author  of  it.  Only 
a  moment  ago  I  was  talking  with  one  of  the  un- 
fortunate men  who  have  been  paid  for  it.  I  could  not  dis- 
suade him." 

"And  didn't  that  fellow  say  who  paid  him?'* 

"Yes.  Asking  me  to  keep  the  secret,  he  told  me  that 
it  was  you." 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Ibarra.     He  stood  stupefied. 

"Senor,  don't  hesitate,  don't  doubt,  don't  lose  time,  for 
undoubtedly  the  conspiracy  will  break  out  this  very  night." 

Ibarra,  with  staring  eyes,  and  hands  holding  his  head, 
seemed  not  to  hear  him. 

"The  blow  cannot  be  thwarted,"  continued  Elias.  ''I 
have  arrived  too  late.  I  do  not  know  their  leaders.  .  . 
eave  yourself,  Senor,  save  yourself  for  the  sake  of  your 
country." 

"Where  shall  I  flee  ?  They  are  expecting  me  this  even- 
ing," exclaimed  Ibarra,  thinking  of  Maria  Clara. 

"To  any  other  town,  to  Manila,  to  the  house  of  some 
official ;  only  flee  somewhere  so  that  they  will  not  say  that 
you  are  directing  the  movement." 

"And  if  I  myself  denounce  the  conspiracy?" 

"You  denounce  it?"  exclaimed  Elias,  looking  at  him, 
and  stepping  back.  "You  would  pass  for  a  traitor  and 
a  coward  in  the  eyes  of  the  conspirators,  and  for  a 
pusillanimous  person  in  the  eyes  of  others.  They  would 
say  that  you  had  played  a  trick  to  win  some  praise,  they 
would  say.  .  .  " 

"But  what  can  be  done?" 

"Already  I  have  told  you.  Destroy  all  the  papers  you 
have  which  relate  to  you;  flee  and  await  developments." 

"And  Maria  Clara?"  exclaimed  the  young  man.  "No; 
death  first !" 

Elias  wrung  his  hands  and  said: 

"Well,  then,  at  least  avoid  the  blow.  Prepare  yourself 
against  their  accusations." 

Ibarra  looked  around  him  in  a  stupefied  manner. 

'*Then,  help  me !    There  in  those  bags  I  have  my  fam- 


222  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ily  letters.  Sort  out  tHose  from  my  father,  whicH  are, 
perhaps,  the  ones  that  would  incriminate  me.  Eead  the 
signatures/' 

Ibarra,  stunned  and  overwhelmed,  opened  and  closed 
drawers,  collected  papers,  hastily  read  letters,  tore  up 
some,  kept  others,  took  down  books  and  thumbed  through 
some  of  them.  Elias  did  the  same,  if  indeed  with  less 
confusion,  with  equal  zeal.  But  he  stopped,  with  eyes  wide 
open,  turned  over  a  paper  which  he  had  in  his  hand  and 
asked  in  a  trembling  voice: 

"Did  your  family  know  Don  Pedro  Eibarramendia  ?^ 

"Certainly !"  replied  Ibarra,  opening  a  drawer  and  tak- 
ing out  a  pile  of  papers.     "He  was  my  great-grandfather." 

"Your  great  grandfather  ?  Don  Pedro  Eibarramendia  ?" 
he  again  asked,  with  livid  features  and  a  changed  appear- 
ance. 

"Yes,"  replied  Ibarra,  distracted,  '^e  cut  short  the 
name,  for  it  was  too  long." 

"He  was  a  Basque  ?"  said  Elias  approaching  him. 

"Yes;  but  what's  the  matter?"  he  asked,  surprised. 

Elias  closed  his  fist,  shook  it  in  Ibarra's  face  dnd  looked 
at  him.  Crisostomo  stepped  back  as  soon  as  he  read  the 
expression  on  that  face. 

"Do  you  know  who  Don  Pedro  Eibarramendia  was?" 
lie  asked  between  his  teeth.  "Don  Pedro  Eibarramendia 
was  that  wretch  who  accused  my  grandfather  and  caused 
all  our  misery.  .  .  I  was  looking  for  one  of  his  name. 
God  has  given  you  into  my  hands.  .  .  Account  to  me  for 
our  misfortunes." 

Ibarra  looked  at  him  terrified.  Elias  shook  him  by  the 
arm  and,  in  a  bitter  voice,  filled  with  hate,  said: 

^Tjook  at  me  well ;  see  if  I  have  suffered,  and  you,  you 
live,  you  love,  you  have  fortune,  home,  consideration.  You 
live.  .  .  you  live!" 

And,  beside  himself,  he  ran  toward  a  small  collection 
of  arms,  but  he  had  scarcely  grasped  two  swords  when  he 
let  them  fall,  and,  like  a  madman,  looked  ct  Ibarra,  who 
remained  immovahle. 

^'What  am  I  to  do  ?"  he  said  and  fled  from  the  house. 


The  Catastrophe.  223 


CHAPTEK   XXXV. 

THE   CATASTROPHE. 

There  in  the  dining-room  Captain  Tiago,  Linares,  and 
Aunt  Isabel  were  eating  supper.  In  the  sala  the  rattling 
of  plate  and  tableware  was  heard.  Maria  Clara  had  said 
that  she  did  not  care  to  eat  and  had  seated  herself  at  the 
piano.  By  her  side  was  jolly  Sinang,  who  murmured  little 
secrets  in  Maria's  ear,  while  Father  Salvi  uneasily  paced 
the  sala. 

It  was  not  because  the  convalescent  had  no  appetite  that 
she  was  not  eating.  It  was  because  she  was  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  a  certain  person  and  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
moment  in  which  her  Argus  could  not  be  present,  the  hour 
when  Linares  ate. 

"You  will  see  how  that  ghost  will  stay  till  eight  o'clock,'' 
murmured  Sinang,  pointing  to  the  curate.  "At  eight 
o'clock  he  ought  to  come.  This  priest  is  as  much  in  love 
as  Linares." 

Maria  Clara  looked  at  her  friend,  frightened.  The  lat- 
ter, without  noticing  her  expression,  continued  her  terrible 
gossip : 

"Ah!  Now  I  know  why  he  doesn't  go,  in  spite  of  all 
my  hints.  He  doesn't  want  to  bum  the  lamps  in  the  con- 
vent. Don't  you  see  ?  Ever  since  you  fell  ill,  he  has  had 
the  two  lights  which  he  used  to  bum,  put  out.  But  look  at 
his  eyes  and  his  face !" 

Just  at  that  moment  the  clock  in  the  house  struck  eight. 
The  curate  trembled  and  went  and  sat  down  in  a  corner 
of  the  room. 

"He  is  coming,"  said  Sinang,  pinching  Maria  Clara.  'T>o 
you  hear  ?" 

The  bell  in  the  church  tolled  eight  and  all  arose  to  pray. 
Father  Salvi,  with  a  weak  and  trembling  voice,  led,  but,  as 
each  one  had  his  own  thoughts,  nobody  paid  any  attention 
to  him. 


224  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

The  prayer  had  scarcely  ended,  when  Ibarra  presented 
himself.  The  young  man  was  wearing  mourning,  not  only 
in  his  dress,  but  in  his  face.  In  fact,  it  was  so  evident 
that  Maria  Clara,  on  seeing  him,  arose  and  took  a  step  to- 
ward him  as  if  to  ask  what  ailed  him,  but  at  the  same  instant 
a  discharge  of  musketry  was  heard.  Ibarra  stopped,  his 
eyes  rolled  and  he  was  unable  to  speak.  The  curate  hid 
himself  behind  a  pillar.  More  shooting  and  more  noise 
was  heard  in  the  direction  of  the  convent,  followed  by 
cries  and  the  sound  of  people  running.  Captain  Tiago, 
Aunt  Isabel  and  Linares  entered  the  room,  hurriedly  cry- 
ing "tulisan!  tulisanr  Andeng  followed  them,  brandish- 
ing a  spit  and  ran  toward  her  foster  sister. 

Aunt  Isabel  fell  on  her  knees  and  prayed  the  Kyrie 
eleison.  Captain  Tiago,  pale  and  trembling,  carried  a 
chicken's  liver  on  his  fork,  and,  in  tears,  offered  it  to  the 
Virgin  of  Antipolo.  Linares  had  his  mouth  full  and  was 
armed  with  a  spoon.  Sinang  and  Maria  Clara  embraced 
each  other.  The  only  person  who  did  not  move  was  Ibarra. 
He  stood  as  if  petrified,  his  face  indescribably  pale. 

The  cries  and  blows  continued,  the  windows  were  shut 
with  a  bang,  a  whistle  was  heard,  and  occasionally  a  shot. 

''Christe  eleison!  Santiago,  fasten  the  windows," 
groaned  Aunt  Isabel. 

'Tifty  great  bombs  and  a  thanksgiving  mass,"  replied 
Captain  Tiago.    *'Ora  pro  nobis  r 

After  a  time,  things  quieted  down  and  there  was  a  ter- 
rible silence.  The  voice  of  the  alferez  was  distinguished, 
as  he  came  running  in,  and  crying:  "Father  curate! 
Father  Salvi!     Come!" 

"Miser e!  The  alferez  is  asking  for  confession!"  cried 
Aunt  Isabel. 

"Is  he  wounded  ?"  asked  Linares  at  last.    "Ah !" 

"Come,  Father  Salvi!  There  is  nothing  to  fear  now," 
continued  the  alferez,  shouting. 

Father  Salvi,  pale,  and  decided  at  last,  came  out  of  his 
hiding-place  and  went  downstairs. 

"The  tulisanes  have  killed  the  alferez  T  said  Aunt  Isabel. 

"Maria  Clara,  Sinang,  go  to  your  room!  Fasten  the 
door!    Kyrie  eleison!" 

Ibarra  also  went  toward  the  stairs,  in  spite  of  Aunt 


The  Catastrophe.  225 

Isabel,  who  was  saying :  "  Don't  go  out !  You  haven't  con- 
fessed yet.    Don't  go  out !" 

The  good  old  woman  had  been  a  great  friend  of  Ibarra's 
mother. 

But  Ibarra  left  the  house.  It  seemed  to  him  that  all 
about  him  was  revolving  through  the  air,  that  even  the 
ground  was  gone  from  under  his  feet.  His  ears  buzzed. 
His  legs  moved  heavily  and  irregularly.  Waves  of  blood, 
light  and  darkness,  succeeded  one  another  on  the  retina  of 
his  eye. 

Despite  the  fact  that  the  moon  was  shining  brightly  in 
the  heavens,  the  young  man  stumbled  on  every  stone  in  the 
solitary  and  deserted  street. 

Near  the  cuartel  he  saw  some  soldiers  with  their 
bayonets  fixed,  talking  excitedly.    He  passed  by  unseen. 

In  the  tribunal,  blows,  cries,  wails,  and  curses  were 
heard.    The  alferez*s  voice  drowned  all  the  others. 

"Put  him  in  the  stocks !  Put  handcuffs  on  that  fellow ! 
Two  shots  for  whoever  moves !  Sergeant,  you  will  mount 
your  guard!  Let  no  one  pass,  not  even  God!  Corporal, 
let  no  one  sleep !" 

Ibarra  hastened  his  steps  toward  his  house.  His  servants 
were  uneasily  awaiting  him. 

"Saddle  the  best  horse  and  go  to  bed !"  said  he  to  them.^ 

He  entered  his  laboratory  and  hurriedly  began  to  get 
his  travelling  bag  ready.  He  opened  an  iron  box,  took  out 
all  the  money  which  he  found  there  and  put  it  in  a  bag. 
He  gathered  his  jewels  together,  took  down  a  picture  of 
Maria  Clara  which  was  hanging  upon  the  wall,  and,  arm- 
ing himself  with  a  dirk  and  two  revolvers,  he  turned  to  the 
cupboard  where  he  had  some  tools. 

At  that  instant,  three  blows,  loud  and  strong,  sounded 
on  the  door. 

"Who's  there?"  asked  Ibarra,  in  a  doleful  voice. 

"Open  in  the  name  of  the  King !  Open  the  door  at  once, 
or  we  will  knock  it  down !"  replied  an  imperious  Spanish 
voice. 

Ibarra  looked  toward  the  window.  His  eyes  flashed  and 
he  cocked  his  revolver.  But  changing  his  mind,  he  left 
the  arms  and  went  to  open  the  door.,  at  the  same  moment 
that  the  servants  came  up. 


226  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

THree  Guards  seized  him  instantly. 

'^ou  are  made  a  prisoner  in  the  name  of  the  King!" 
said  the  sergeant. 

"What  tovr 

"They  will  tell  you  later.  We  axe  prohibited  from  say- 
ing a  word." 

The  young  man  reflected  a  moment  and  not  wishing, 
perhaps,  the  soldiers  to  discover  his  preparations  for  flight, 
he  took  his  hat  and  said : 

"I  am  at  your  disposal.  I  suppose  it  will  be  only  for  a 
short  time." 

"If  you  promise  not  to  escape,  we  will  not  handcuff  you. 
The  alferez  grants  this  favor,  but  if  you  flee " 

Ibarra  followed,  leaving  the  servants  in  consternation. 

In  the  meantime^  what  had  become  of  Elias? 
On  leaving  Crisostomo's  house,  like  a  madman,  he  ran 
about  without  knowing  where.  He  crossed  fields,  and  in 
violent  agitation  arrived  at  a  forest.  He  was  fleeing  from 
peeple,  and  from  light.  The  moon  troubled  him  and  he 
entered  the  mysterious  shade  of  the  forest.  Sometimes 
stopping,  sometimes  following  unbroken  paths,  leaning  upon 
century-old  trunks,  entangled  in  the  briars,  he  looked  to- 
ward the  town,  which  lay  at  his  feet  bathed  in  the  light  of 
the  moon,  stretching  itself  out  on  the  plain,  lying  on  the 
shore  of  the  lake.  Birds,  disturbed  in  their  sleep,  flew  away. 
Owls  screeched  and  flew  from  one  limb  to  another.  But 
Elias  neither  heard  nor  saw  them.  He  thought  he  was  be- 
ing followed  by  the  infuriated  shades  of  his  ancestors.  He 
saw  the  horrible  basket  hanging  from  every  branch  with 
the  blood-covered  head  of  Balat,  just  as  his  father  had 
described  it  to  him.  He  thought  he  saw  the  dead  body  of 
his  grandmother  Jying  at  the  foot  of  every  tree.  He  seemed 
to  see  the  skeleton  of  his  dishonored  grandfather  in  the 
darkness,  and  the  skeleton,  the  old  woman,  and  the  head 
all  cried  out  to  him,  "Coward !    Coward !" 

He  left  the  mountain  and  fled  down  toward  the  sea. 
He  ran  along  the  beach  in  agitation.  But  there  in  the 
distance,  amid  the  waves,  where  the  light  of  the  moon 
seemed  to  raise  a  fog,  he  thought  he  saw  a  shade  raise 
itself,  the  shade  of  his  sister,  with  her  breast  covered  with 
blood,  her  hair  hanging  loose  in  the  air. 


The  Catastrophe.  227 

Elias  fell  upon  His  knees  on  the  sand. 

"And  you,  too  V  he  cried  stretching  out  his  arms. 

Then,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  fog,  he  arose  slowly 
and,  advancing  toward  it,  went  into  the  water  as  if  to  fol- 
low somebody.  He  waded  on  over  the  gentle  slope  of  the 
beach  which  forms  the  bar.  He  was  already  far  from  the 
shore  and  the  water  was  up  to  his  belt.  He  went  on  and  on, 
as  if  fascinated  by  a  seducing  spirit.  The  water  was  now 
up  to  his  breast.  Suddenly,  the  discharge  of  musketry 
awoke  him  from  his  dream,  the  vision  disappeared,  and 
the  yoimg  man  returned  to  reality.  He  stopped,  reflected, 
and  noticed  that  he  was  in  the  water.  The  lake  was 
smooth  and  he  could  still  see  the  lights  in  the  fishermen's 
huts. 

He  returned  to  the  shore  and  made  his  way  toward  the 
town.    What  for  ?    He  himself  did  not  know. 

The  town  seemed  uninhabited.  The  houses  were  all 
closed.  Even  the  animals,  the  dogs  which  are  accustomed 
to  bark  at  night,  had  hid  themselves  through  fear.  The 
silvery  light  of  the  moon  increased  the  sadness  and  soli- 
tude. 

Afraid  of  meeting  tHe  Civil  Guards,  he  went  through 
the  orchards  and  gardens.  In  one  of  the  gardens  he 
thought  he  saw  two  human  forms,  but  he  continued  his 
way.  Jumping  over  fences  and  walls,  he  arrived  after 
great  labor  at  the  other  side  of  the  town,  and  directed  his 
steps  toward  Ibarra's  house.  The  servants  were  in  the 
door,  lamenting  and  commenting  on  the  arrest  of  their 
master. 

Aware  of  what  had  passed,  Elias  went  away,  but  re- 
turned to  the  house,  leaped  over  the  wall,  crawled  through 
a  window  and  went  into  the  cabinet  or  laboratory,  where 
the  candle  which  Ibarra  had  left  was  still  burning. 

Elias  saw  the  papers  and  the  books.  He  found  the  arms 
and  the  little  sacks  which  contained  the  money  and  the 
jewelry.  All  that  had  passed  ran  through  his  imagination 
again,  and,  seeing  all  the  papers  which  might  incriminate 
Ibarra,  he  thought  of  collecting  them,  throwing  them 
through  the  window  and  burying  them. 

He  glanced  toward  the  garden  and,  by  the  light  of  the 


228  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

moon,  he  saw  two  Civil  Guards  coming  with  an  adjutant. 
Their  bayonets  and  helmets  were  glistening  in  the  light. 

Then  he  decided.  He  piled  up  the  clothes  and  papers  in 
the  middle  of  the  cabinet,  emptied  the  oil  in  a  lamp  upon 
the  pile  and  set  fire  to  it.  He  quickly  buckled  the  arms 
around  him.  He  saw  the  picture  of  Maria  Clara,  hesi- 
tated— ^put  it  in  one  of  the  little  sacks,  and  jumped  out 
of  the  window  with  them  all. 

It  was  already  time,  for  the  two  Civil  Guards  were 
forcing  their  entrance. 

*'Let  us  go  up  to  get  your  master's  papers/'  said  the 
adjutant. 

"Have  you  permission  ?  If  not,  you  shall  not  go  up !" 
said  an  old  servant. 

But  the  soldiers  pushed  the  servants  aside  with  the  butts 
of  their  guns  and  went  upstairs.  A  thick  smoke  was  al- 
ready filling  the  whole  house,  and  gigantic  tongues  of 
flame  were  coming  out  from  the  sola,  licking  the  doors 
and  windows. 

"Fire !    Fire !    Fire  r  they  all  cried. 

Each  hurried  to  save  what  he  could,  but  the  fire  had 
filled  the  small  laboratory,  breaking  out  furiously  among 
the  inflammable  materials.  The  Civil  Guards  had  to  turn 
back.  The  fire,  roaring  and  sweeping  all  before  it,  closed 
the  passage  to  them.  In  vain  they  brought  water  from  the 
well.  All  were  shouting,  and  crying  for  help,  but  they  were 
isolated.  The  fire  reached  the  other  rooms  and  in  thick 
columns  of  smoke  ascended  to  the  heavens.  Some 
peasants  came  from  a  distance,  but  they  arrived  only  in 
time  to  see  the  frightful  spectacle,  the  end  of  that  old 
building,  so  long  respected  by  the  elements. 


What  People  Say  and  Think.  229 


CHAPTEK  XXXVI. 

WHAT   PEOPLE   SAY   AND   THINK. 

Day  dawned  at  last  for  the  terrorized  people.  The 
streets  in  which  the  cuartel  and  the  tribunal  were  situa- 
ted were  still  deserted  and  solitary.  The  houses  showed 
no  signs  of  life.  However,  a  shutter  was  opened  with 
a  creaking  noise  and  an  infant  head  stuck  out  and  looked 
in  all  directions.  .  .  Slap !.  .  .  .  A  sound  announces  hard 
contact  between  a  strip  of  leather  and  a  human  body.  The 
child  made  a  grimace,  closed  its  eyes  and  disappeared. 
The  shutter  was  closed  again. 

The  example  had  been  set.  Without  any  doubt  tjie 
opening  and  closing  of  the  shutter  has  been  heard,  for  an- 
other window  was  opened  very  slowly  and  cautiously  and 
a  wrinkled  and  toothless  old  woman  thrust  out  her  head. 
She  was  called  Sister  Rute.  She  looked  about,  knit  her 
brows,  spit  noisily  and  then  crossed  herself.  In  the  house 
opposite,  a  little  window  was  timidly  opened  and  her 
friend.  Sister  Rufa  appeared.  They  looked  at  each  other 
for  a  moment,  smiled,  made  some  signals,  and  again  crossed 
themselves. 

^^Jesus!  It  was  like  a  thanksgiving  mass,"  said  Sister 
Rufa. 

"Since  the  time  that  Balat  sacked  the  town  I  have 
never  seen  a  night  like  it,"  replied  Sister  Pute. 

"What  a  lot  of  shots !  They  say  that  it  was  old  Pablo'3 
gang." 

^'Tulisanes?  It  couldn^t  be.  They  say  that  it  was  the 
cuaderilleros  against  the  Civil  Guards.  For  this  reason, 
they  have  arrested  Don  Filipo." 

"Sanctus  DeusI  They  say  that  there  are  no  less  than 
fourteen  killed." 

Other  windows  were  opened  and  different  faces  ap- 
peared, exchanging  salutations  and  commenting  on  the 
affair. 

In  the  light  of  the  day — which  promised  to  be  a  splen- 


230  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

did  one — could  be  seen  in  the  distance,  like  ash-colored 
shadows,  soldiers  hurrying  about  in  confusion. 

"There  goes  another  corpse !''  said  some  one  from  one 
of  the  windows. 

"One  ?      I  see  two." 

"And  so  do  I.  But  do  you  know  what  it  was?''  asked 
a  man  with  a  crafty  face. 

"Certainly.     The  cuaderilleros" 

"No,  Senor.     An  uprising  at  the  cuartelf 

"What  uprising?     The  curate  against  the  dlferezf* 

"No,  nothing  of  the  sort,'^  said  he  who  had  asked  the 
question.     "The  Chinese  have  risen  in  revolt.'^ 

And  he  closed  his  window  again. 

"The  Chinese!"  repeated  all,  with  the  greatest  aston- 
ishment. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  other  versions  of  the  affair  were 
in  circulation.  Ibarra,  with  his  servants,  it  was  said,  had 
tried  to  steal  Maria  Clara,  and  Captain  Tiago,  aided  by  the 
Guardia  Civil  had  defended  her. 

By  this  time  the  number  of  the  dead  was  no  longer  four- 
teen, but  thirty.  Captain  Tiago,  it  was  said,  was  wounded 
and  was  going  right  off  to  Manila  with  his  family. 

The  arrival  of  two  cuaderilleros,  carrying  a  human 
form  in  a  wheelbarrow,  and  followed  by  a  Civil  Guard, 
produced  a  great  sensation.  It  was  supposed  that  they 
came  from  the  convent.  From  the  form  of  the  feet  whicli 
were  hanging  down,  they  tried  to  guess  who  it  could  be. 
By  half -past  seven,  when  other  Civil  Guards  arrived  from 
neighboring  towns,  the  current  version  of  the  affair  was 
already  clear  and  detailed. 

"I  have  just  come  from  the  tribunal,  where  I  have 
seen  Don  Filipo  and  Don  Crisostomo  prisoners,"  said  a 
man  to  Sister  Pute.  "I  talked  with  one  of  the  cuaderil- 
leros on  guard.  Well,  Bruno,  the  son  of  the  man  who  was 
whipped  to  death,  made  a  declaration  last  night.  As  you 
know.  Captain  Tiago  is  going  to  marry  his  daughter  to  a 
Spaniard.  Don  Crisostomo,  offended,  wanted  to  take  re- 
venge and  tried  to  kill  all  the  Spaniards,  even  the  curate. 
Last  night  they  attacked  the  convent  and  the  cuartel. 
Happily,  by  mercy  of  God,  the  curate  was  in  Captain 
Tiago's  house.     They  say  that  many  escaped.     The  Civil 


What  People  Say  and  Think.  231 

Guards  burned  Don  Crisostomo^s  house,  and  if  they  had 
not  taken  him  prisoner,  they  would  have  burned  him,  too." 

"They  burned  the  house?" 

"All  the  servants  were  arrested.  Why,  you  can  still  see 
the  smoke  from  here!"  said  the  narrator,  approaching 
the  window.  "Those  who  come  from  there  relate  very 
sad  things." 

All  looked  toward  the  place  indicated.  A  light  column 
of  smoke  was  still  ascending  to  the  heavens.  All  made 
comments  more  or  less  pious,  more  or  less  accusatory. 

"Poor  young  man !"  exclaimed  an  old  man,  the  husband 
of  Pute. 

'TTes !"  replied  his  wife,  ^^ut  he  did  not  order  a  mass 
for  the  soul  of  his  father,  who  undoubtedly  needs  itmore 
than  others." 

"But  wife,  you  don't  have  any  pity.  .  .  " 

"Sympathy  for  the  excommunicated  ?  It  is  a  sin  to  have 
pity  for  the  enemies  of  God,  say  the  curates.  Don't  you 
remember  ?  He  ran  over  the  sacred  burial  ground  as  if  he 
were  in  a  cattle  pen." 

"But  a  cattle  pen  and  a  cemetery  are  much  alike,"  re- 
sponded the  old  man,  "except  that  but  one  class  of  ani- 
mals enter  the  cemetery." 

"What!"  cried  Sister  Pute.  "Are  you  still  going  to 
defend  him  whom  God  so  clearly  punishes  ?  You  will  see 
that  they  will  arrest  you,  too.  You  may  support  a  falling 
house,  if  you  want  to!" 

The  husband  became  silent  in  view  of  this  argument. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  old  woman,  "after  striking  Father 
Damaso,  there  was  nothing  left  for  him  to  do  but  to  kill 
Father  Salvi." 

"But  you  can't  deny  that  he  was  a  good  boy  when  he 
was  a  child." 

"Yes,  he  was  a  good  child,"  replied  the  old  woman,  'T3ut 
he  went  to  Spain.  All  those  who  go  to  Spain  return 
heretics,  so  the  curates  say." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  husband,  seeing  his  revenge. 
"And  the  curate,  and  all  the  curates,  and  the  Archbishops, 
and  the  Pope,  and  the  Virgin — are  they  not  Spaniards? 
Bah!     Are  they  heretics,  too?    Bah!" 

Happily  for  Sister  Pute,  the  arrival  of  a  servant,  who 
rushed  in  confused  and  pale,  cut  off  the  discussion. 


232  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

''A  man  hanged  in  a  neighboring  orchard  1"  sHe  ex- 
claimed breathless. 

"A  man  hanged!"  exclaimed  all,  full  of  amazement. 

The   women   crossed   themselves.     No   one   could   stir. 

"Yes,  Senor,"  continued  the  servant,  trembling.  "I  was 
going  to  gather  some  peas  in.  .  .  .  I  looked  into  the  or- 
chard next  door.  .  .  to  see  if  there.  .  .  I  saw  a  man 
swinging.  ...  I  thought  it  was  Teo  ...  I  went  nearer  to 
gather  peas,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  not  he  but  it  was  an- 
other, and  was  dead.  .  .  I  ran,  ran  and.  .  .  " 

'^Let  us  go  and  see  it,^'  said  the  old  man,  rising. 
"Take  us  there.'' 

"Don't  go !"  cried  Sister  Pute,  seizing  him  by  the  shirt. 

"You'll  get  into  trouble!  He  has  hanged  himself? 
Then  all  the  worse  for  him!" 

"Let  me  see  it,  wife !  Go  to  the  tribunal,  Juan,  and  re- 
port it.    Perhaps  he  is  not  dead  yet." 

And  he  went  ino  the  orchard,  followed  by  the  servant, 
who  kept  hid  behind  him.  The  women  and  Sister  Pute 
herself  came  along  behind,  full  of  terror  and  curiosity. 

"There  it  is,  Senor,"  said  the  servant  stopping  him 
and  pointing  with  her  finger. 

The  group  stopped  at  a  respectful  distance,  allowing 
the  old  man  to  advance  alone. 

The  body  of  a  man,  hanging  from  the  limb  of  a  santol 
tree,  was  swinging  slowly  in  the  breeze.  The  old  man 
contemplated  it  for  some  time.  He  looked  at  the  rigid 
feet,  the  arms,  the  stained  clothing  and  the  drooping  head. 

"We  ought  not  to  touch  the  corpse  until  some  official 
has  arrived,"  said  he,  in  a  loud  voice.  "He  is  already 
stiff.     He  has  been  dead  for  some  time." 

The  women  approached  hesitatingly. 

"It  is  the  neighbor  who  lived  in  that  little  house;  the 
one  who  arrived  only  two  weeks  ago.  Look  at  the  scar 
on  his  face." 

"Ave  Maria!"  exclaimed  some  of  the  women. 

"Shall  we  pray  for  his  soul?"  asked  a  young  girl  as 
soon  as  she  had  finished  looking  at  the  dead  body  from  all 
directions. 

"You  fool?  You  heretic!"  Sister  Pute  scolded  her. 
"Don't  you  know  what  Father  Damaso  said  ?     To  pray  for 


What  People  Say  and  Think,  233 

a  damned  person  is  to  tempt  God.  He  who  commits  sui- 
cide is  irrevocably  condemned.  For  this  reason,  he  can- 
not be  buried  in  a  sacred  place.  I  had  begun  to  think 
that  this  man  was  going  to  have  a  bad  ending.  I  never 
could  guess  what  he  lived  on." 

"I  saw  him  twice  speaking  with  the  sacristan  mayor," 
observed  a  girl. 

''It  couldn't  have  been  to  confess  himself  or  to  order 
a  mass!" 

The  neighbors  gathered  together  and  a  large  circle  sur- 
rounded the  corpse  which  was  still  swinging.  In  half  an 
hour  some  officers  and  two  cuaderilleros  arrived.  They 
took  the  body  down  and  put  it  in  a  wheelbarrow. 

"Some  people  are  in  a  hurry  to  die,"  said  one  of  the 
officers,  laughing,  while  he  took  out  the  pen  from  behind 
his  ear. 

He  asked  some  trifling  questions;  took  the  declara- 
tion of  the  servant,  whom  he  tried  to  implicate,  now  look- 
ing at  her  with  evil  in  his  eyes,  now  threatening  her  and 
now  attributing  to  her  words  which  Bhe  did  not  say — so 
much  so  that  the  servant,  believing  that  she  was  going  to 
be  taken  to  jail,  began  to  weep  and  finished  by  declaring 
that  she  was  looking  for  peas,  but  that.  .  .  and  she  called 
Teo  to  witness. 

In  the  meantime,  a  peasant  with  a  wide  hat  and  a 
large  plaster  on  his  neck,  was  examining  the  body,  and 
the  rope  by  which  it  was  hanging. 

The  face  was  no  more  livid  than  the  rest  of  the  body. 
Above  the  rope  could  be  seen  two  scars  and  two  small  bruises. 
Where  the  rope  had  rubbed,  there  was  no  blood  and  the 
skin  was  white.  The  curious  peasant  examined  closely 
the  camisa  and  the  pantaloons.  He  noted  that  they  were 
full  of  dust  and  recently  torn  in  some  places.  But  what 
most  attracted  his  attention  were  the  "stick-tights"*  on 
his  clothing,  even  up  to  his  neck. 

"What  do  you  see?"  asked  the  officer. 

"I  was  trying  to  identify  him,  senor,"  stammered  the 
peasant,  lowering  his  hat  further  from  his  uncovered 
head. 

*A  plant  (Desmodium  caresceus),  the  dry  seeds  of  which  cling 
to  the  clothing. 


234  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"But  haven't  you  heard  that  it  was  one  Lucas?  Were 
you  sleeping?'' 

All  began  to  laugh.  The  peasant,  embarrassed,  mut- 
tered a  few  words,  and  went  away  with  head  down,  walk- 
ing slowly. 

"Here!  Where  are  you  going?"  cried  the  old  man. 
"You  can't  get  out  that  way.  That's  the  way  to  the  dead 
man's  house." 

"That  fellow  is  still  asleep,"  said  the  officer  with  a 
jeer.     "We'll  have  to  throw  some  water  on  him !" 

Those  standing  around  laughed  again. 

The  peasant  left  the  place  where  he  had  played  so  poor 
a  part  and  directed  his  steps  toward  the  church.  In  the 
sacristry,  he  asked  for  the  sacristan  mayor. 

"He  is  still  sleeping!"  they  replied  gruffly.  "Don't 
you  know  that  they  sacked  the  convent  last  night  ?" 

"I  will  wait  till  he  awakes." 

The  sacristans  looked  at  him  with  that  rudeness  char- 
acteristic of  people  who  are  in  the  habit  of  being  ill-treated. 

In  a  dark  corner,  the^one-eyed  sacristan  mayor  was 
sleeping  in  a  large  chair.  His  spectacles  were  across  his 
forehead  among  his  long  locks  of  hair.  His  squalid,  bony 
breast  was  bare,  and  rose  and  fell  with  regularity. 

The  peasant  sat  down  near  by,  disposed  to  wait  pa- 
tiently, but  a  coin  fell  on  the  floor  and  he  began  looking 
for  it  with  the  aid  of  a  candle,  under  the  sacristan  mayor's 
big  chair.  The  peasant  also  noted  "stick-tights"  on  the 
sleeping  man's  pantaloons  and  on  the  arms  of  his  camisa. 
The  sacristan  awoke  at  last,  rubbed  his  good  eye,  and,  in 
a  very  bad  humor,   reproached  the  man. 

"I  would  like  to  order  a  mass  said,  senor,"  replied  he 
in  a  tone  of  excuse. 

"They  have  already  finished  all  the  masses,"  said  the 
one-eyed  man,  softening  his  accent  a  little.  "If  you  want 
it  for  to-morrow.     .     .     .     Is  it  for  souls  in  Purgatory?" 

"No,  senor;"  replied  the  peasant,  giving  him  a  peso. 

And  looking  fixedly  in  his  one  eye,  he  added: 

"It  is  for  a  person  who  is  going  to  die  soon."  And 
he  left  the  sacristy.  "I  could  have  seized  him  last  night," 
he  added,  sighingly  as  he  removed  the  plaster  from  his 
neck.  And  he  straightened  up  and  regained  the  stature 
and  appearance  of  Elias. 


Vae  Victis!  235 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

VAE  victis! 

Civil  Guards  were  passing  with  a  sinister  air  to  and 
fro  in  front  of  the  door  of  the  tribunal,  threatening  with 
the  butts  of  their  guns  the  daring  boys  who  stood  on  tip- 
toe or  raised  each  other  up  in  order  to  look  through  the 
grates  in  the  windows. 

The  sala  did  not  present  that  same  joyful  aspect  as  it 
did  when  the  program  for  the  festival  was  being  dis- 
cussed. It  was  gloomy  and  the  silence  was  almost  death- 
like. The  Civil  Guards  and  the  cuaderilleros  who  were 
occupying  the  room  scarcely  spoke  and  the  few  words  that 
they  did  pronounce  were  in  a  low  tone.  Around  the 
table  sat  the  directorcillo,  two  writers  and  some  soldiers 
scribbling  papers.  The  alferez  walked  from  one  side  to  the 
other,  looking  from  time  to  time  ferociously  toward  the 
door.  Themistocles  after  the  battle  of  Salamis  could  not 
have  shown  more  pride  at  the  Olympic  games.  Dona 
Consolacion  yawned  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  and  dis- 
closed her  black  palate  and  her  crooked  teeth.  Her  cold 
and  evil  look  was  fixed  on  the  door  of  the  jail,  covered 
with  indecent  pictures.  Her  husband,  made  amiable  by 
the  victory,  had  yielded  to  her  request  to  be  allowed  to  wit- 
ness the  interrogation  and,  perhaps,  the  tortures  which 
were  to  follow.  The  hyena  smelled  the  dead  body,  she 
licked  her  chops  and  was  wearied  at  the  delay  in  the  pun- 
ishment. 

The  goibernadorcilWs  chair,  that  large  chair  under  the 
portrait  of  His  Majesty,  was  empty  and  seemed  destined 
for  some  other  person. 

At  nearly  nine  o'clock,  the  curate,  pale  and  with  eye- 
brows knit,  arrived. 

'^Well,  you  haven't  made  any  one  wait !"  said  the  alferez 
sarcastically  to  the  friar. 


236  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"I  would  Have  preferred  not  to  be  present/'  replied 
Father  Salvi,  in  a  low  voice,  without  taking  notice  of  the 
bitter  tone.     .     "I  am  very  nervous/' 

"As  no  one  came,  I  decided  that,  in  order  not  to  leave 
the  chair  empty,  your  presence.  .  .  .  You  already 
know  that  the  prisoners  are  to  leave  town  this  afternoon/' 

^'Young  Ibarra  and  the  teniente  mayor  f 

The  alferez  pointed  toward  the  jail. 

"Eight  are  in  there,"  said  he.  "Bruno  died  last  night 
at  midnight,  but  his  declaration  has  been  obtained." 

The  curate  saluted  Dona  Consolacion,  who  responded 
with  a  yawn  and  an  "aah !"  The  friar  took  the  big  chair 
under  the  picture  of  His  Majesty. 

"We  can  begin,"  said  he. 

"Bring  out  the  two  who  are  in  the  stocks!"  ordered  the 
alferez  in  his  most  terrifying  voice.  And  turning  to  the 
curate,  he  added,  changing  his  tone: 

"They  are  fastened  in  the  stocks  with  two  holes  vacant !" 

For  those  who  are  interested  in  instruments  of  torture, 
we  will  say  that  the  stocks  is  one  of  the  most  innocent. 
The  holes  in  which  are  fastened  the  legs  of  the  prisoner 
are  a  little  more  or  less  than  a  palm  apart.  Leaving  two 
holes  vacant,  and  putting  the  prisoner's  legs  in  the  holes 
on  either  side,  would  make  the  position  strained,  so  that 
the  ankles  would  sujffer  peculiarly  and  the  lower  extremi- 
ties be  stretched  apart  more  than  a  yard.  It  does  not  kill 
instantly,  as  may  well  be  imagined. 

The  turnkey,  followed  by  four  soldiers,  drew  back  the 
bolt  and  opened  the  door.  A  nauseating  odor,  and  the 
thick,  damp  air  escaped  from  the  dense  darkness  of  the 
prison  and,  at  the  same  time,  groans  and  sighs  were  heard. 
A  soldier  lighted  a  match,  but  the  flame  was  extinguished 
in  that  foul,  vitiated  atmosphere,  and  they  had  to  wait 
till  the  air  was  renewed. 

In  the  vague  light  of  a  candle,  several  human  forms 
could  be  discerned.  They  were  men,  some  of  whom  locked 
their  arms  around  their  knees  and  hid  their  heads  be- 
tween them,  others  were  lying  down,  with  their  mouths 
to  the  ground,  some  standing,  and  some  leaning  against 
the  wall.  A  blow  and  a  creaking  sound  was  heard,  ac- 
companied by  oaths;  the  stocks  were  being  opened. 


Vae  Victis!  237 

Dona  Consolacion's  body  was  bent  forward,  the  muscles 
of  her  neck  were  rigid,  her  eyes  riveted  to  the  half  open 
door. 

Between  the  soldiers  came  out  Tarsilo,  the  brother 
of  Bruno.  He  wore  handcuffs.  His  torn  clothes  disclosed 
well-developed  muscles.  His  eyes  were  fixed  insolently 
on  the  alferez's  wife. 

"This  is  the  one  who  defended  himself  most  bravely, 
and  who  ordered  his  companions  to  flee,"  said  the  alferez 
to  Father  Salvi. 

Behind  came  another  miserable  sight,  a  man  crying  and 
weeping  like  a  child.  He  was  limping  and  his  panta- 
loons were  stained  with  blood. 

"Mercy,  senor,  have  mercy !  I  will  not  enter  the  cuartel 
yard  again,"  he  cried. 

"He  is  a  crafty  fellow,"  said  the  alferez,  speaking  to 
the  curate.  "He  wanted  to  flee,  but  had  received  a  flesh 
wound." 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  the  alferez,  speaking  to 
Tarsilo. 

"Tarsilo  Alasigan." 

"What  did  Don  Crisostomo  promise  you  for  attacking 
the  cuartelf 

"Don  Crisostomo  has  never  communicated  with  us." 

"Don't  deny  it !     You  wanted  to  surprise  us  for  him !" 

"You  are  mistaken.  You  whipped  our  father  to  death. 
We  avenged  him  and  nothing  more.  Look  for  your  two 
soldiers !" 

The  alferez  looked  at  the  sergeant,  surprised. 

"They  are  at  the  bottom  of  that  precipice.  We  threw 
them  there  yesterday.  There  they  will  rot.  Now  kill 
me!     You  will  know  nothing  more." 

Sileuce  and  general  surprise. 

"You  are  not  going  to  tell  who  were  your  accomplices  ?" 
said  the  alferez  in  a  threatening  manner  and  brandish- 
ing a  whip. 

A  scornful  smile  curled  the  lips  of  the  culprit. 

The  alferez  conferred  for  some  minutes  with  the  curate 
in  a  low  voice.     Then  turning  to  the  soldiers,  he  ordered: 

"Take  him  to  where  the  dead  bodies  are!" 

In  a  corner  of  the  yard,  upon  an  old  wagon,  were  five 


238  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

bodies  close  togetHer  and  Half  covered  by  a  filtHy  piece  of 
torn  matting.  A  soldier  on  guard  was  pacing  up  and 
down,  and  constantly  spitting. 

"Do  you  recognize  them  ?"  asked  the  alferez,  lifting  the 
matting. 

Tarsilo  did  not  respond.  He  saw  the  dead  body  of 
Pedro,  with  two  others;  one,  his  own  brother,  riddled  with 
bayonet  wounds,  and  the  other,  Lucas,  with  the  rope  still 
around  his  neck.  His  look  became  gloomy  and  a  sigh 
seemed  to  escape  from  his  breast. 

"Do  you  know  them?"  they  asked  him. 

Tarsilo  remained  silent. 

There  was  a  whistling  sound  and  the  whip  came  down 
across  his  back.  He  trembled,  and  his  muscles  contracted. 
The  lashes  were  repeated,  but  Tarsilo  continued  impas- 
sive. 

"Let  them  whip  him  till  they  cut  him  to  pieces  or  till 
he  makes  a  declaration,"  cried  the  alferez,  exasperated. 

"Speak  then!"  said  the  directorcillo  to  him.  "They 
will  surely  kill  you." 

They  led  him  back  to  the  sala  of  the  tribunal,  where  the 
other  prisoner  was  invoking  God,  grating  his  teeth  and 
shaking  on  his  legs. 

"Do  you  know  this  man?"  asked  Father  Salvi. 

"This  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  seen  him,"  replied 
Tarsilo,  looking  with  a  certain  pity  on  the  other. 

The  alferez  gave  him  a  cuff  with  his  fist  and  kicked 
him. 

"Tie  him  to  the  bench !" 

Without  taking  off  theiJoody  handcuffs,  he  was  fastened 
to  the  wooden  bench.  The  unhappy  fellow  looked  about 
him  as  if  in  search  of  some  one,  and  his  eyes  fell  on  Dona 
Consolacion.  He  smiled  sardonically.  Those  present 
were  surprised  and  followed  his  glance  and  saw  the  senora. 
She  was  biting  her  lips. 

"I  have  never  seen  an  uglier  woman,"  exclaimed  Tarsilo 
amid  the  general  silence.  "I  prefer  to  lie  down  on  this 
bench  as  I  am  doing  than  to  lie  by  her  side,  like  the 
alferez/* 

The  Muse  turned  pale. 

"You  are  going  to  whip  me  to  death,  alferez"  he  con- 


Vae  Victis!  239 

tinned,  ^^Dtit  to-night  I  will  be  avenged  by  your  woman." 

"Gag  him!''  shouted  the  alferez,  furious  and  trembling 
with  rage. 

It  seemed  as  though  Tarsilo  had  wanted  the  gag,  for 
when  he  had  it  in  his  mouth,  his  eyes  gleamed  with  a  ray 
of  satisfaction. 

At  a  signal  from  the  alferez  a  guard,  armed  with  a 
whip,  began  his  cruel  task.  The  whole  body  of  Tarsilo 
shrank.  A  groan,  suppressed  and  prolonged,  could  be 
heard  in  spite  of  the  rag  which  stopped  up  his  mouth.  He 
lowered  his  head.  His  clothes  were  being  stained  with 
blood. 

Father  Salvi,  pale  and  with  a  wild  look,  rose  to  his  feet 
laboriously,  made  a  sign  with  his  hand  and  left  the  sala 
with  vacillating  steps.  In  the  street,  he  saw  a  girl,  lean- 
ing her  back  against  the  wall,  rigid,  immovable,  listening 
attentively,  looking  into  space,  her  marble-like  hands  ex- 
tended along  the  old  wall.  The  sun  was  shining  full  upon 
her.  She  was  counting,  it  seemed  without  breathing,  the 
sharp  blows  and  listening  to  that  heart-rending  groan. 
She  was  Tarsilo's  sister. 

In  the  meantime,  the  scene  was  continuing  in  the  sala. 
The  unfortunate  fellow,  overcome  with  pain,  had  be- 
come silent  and  waited  for  his  punishers  to  tire.  At  last, 
the  soldier  breathless,  let  fall  his  arm.  The  alferez,  pale 
with  wratH  and  astonishment,  made  a  signal  for  them  to 
unloose  him. 

Dona  Consolacion  then  arose  and  whispered  something 
into  her  husband's  ear.  He  nodded  his  head,  signifying 
that  he  understood. 

"To  the  well  with  him !"  said  he. 

The  Filipinos  know  what  that  means.  In  Tagalog  they 
call  it  timhain.  We  do  not  know  who  could  have  been  the 
inventor  of  this  method  of  punishment,  but  we  are  of  the 
opinion  that  he  must  have  lived  long  ago.  In  the  middle 
of  the  tribunal  yard  there  was  a  picturesque  stone-wall, 
roughly  made  out  of  cobble  stones,  around  a  well.  A 
rustic  apparatus  of  bamboo  in  the  form  of  a  lever  serves 
to  draw  out  the  vile,  dirty  and  bad  smelling  water. 
Broken  dishes,  refuse  and  all  sorts  of  filth  collected  there, 
since  the  well  w^s  a  common  receptacle  for  everything 


240  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

that  the  people  threw  away  or  found  useless.  An  object 
which  fell  into  the  place,  no  matter  how  good  it  may  have 
been,  was  thereafter  surely  lost.  However,  the  well  was 
never  closed  up.  At  times,  prisoners  were  condemned  to 
go  down  and  make  it  deeper,  not  because  it  was  thought 
that  the  work  vould  be  useful  in  any  v/ay,  but  because  the 
work  was  so  difficult.  If  a  prisoner  went  down  in  the 
well  once,  he  invariably  contracted  a  fever,  from  which  he 
died. 

Tarsilo  contemplated  all  the  preparations  of  the  sol- 
die:cs  with  a  firm  look.  He  was  very  pale  and  his  lips 
were  trembling  or  murmuring  a  prayer.  The  haughtiness 
of  his  desperation  seemed  to  have  disappeared,  or  at  least 
to  have  weakened.  A  number  of  times  he  bent  his  head, 
fixed  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  resigned  to  his  suffering. 

They  took  him  to  one  side  of  the  stone  wall.  Dona 
Consolacion  followed  smiling.  The  unfortunate  wretch 
glanced  enviously  toward  the  pile  of  dead  bodies,  and  a 
sigh  escaped  from  his  breast. 

"Speak  now!''  said  the  directorcillo  again.  "They 
will  certainly  drown  you.  At  least,  die  without  having 
suffered  so  much.'* 

"When  you  come  out  of  this,  you  will  die,"  said  a 
cttaderillero. 

They  took  the  gag  out  of  his  mouth  and  hung  him  by 
his  feet.  He  had  to  go  down  head  first  and  remain  under 
the  water  some  time  just  like  a  bucket,  except  that  a  man 
is  left  under  the  water  a  longer  time. 

The  alferez  went  to  look  for  a  watch  that  he  might 
count  the  minutes. 

In  the  meantime,  Tarsilo  was  hanging,  his  long  hair 
waving  in  the  air  and  his  eyes  half  closed. 

"If  you  are  Christians,  if  you  have  hearts,"  he  begged, 
in  a  low  voice,  "let  me  down  rapidly  and  make  my  head 
strike  against  the  wall  that  I  may  die.  God  would  reward 
such  a  good  deed.  .  .  Perhaps  some  day  you  will  be  in 
the  same  straits  as  I  am  now." 

The  alferez  returned  and  vrith  watch  in  hand  witnessed 
the  descent. 

"Slowly,  slowly !"  cried  Dona  Consolacion  following  the 
poor  fellow  with  her  eyes.    "Be  careful !" 


Vae  Victis!  241 

The  pole  was  being  lowered  slowly.  Tarsilo  rubbed 
against  the  projecting  stones  and  the  dirty  plants  which 
grew  in  the  crevices.  Then,  the  pole  ceased  to  move. 
The  alferez  was  counting  the  seconds. 

"Up  I"  he  ordered  dryly,  at  the  end  of  a  half  minute. 

The  silvery  harmony  of  the  drops  of  water  falling 
back  into  the  well,  announced  the  return  of  the  unfortunate 
man  to  the  light.  As  the  weight  on  the  end  of  the  lever 
was  heavy,  he  came  up  quickly.  The  rough  pieces  of  stone 
and  pebbles,  torn  loose  from  the  walls,  fell  with  splashes  to 
the  bottom. 

His  face  and  hair  full  of  filthy  mud,  his  body  wet  and 
dripping,  he  appeared  again  in  the  sight  of  the  silent 
crowd.    The  wind  made  him  shiver  with  cold. 

"Do  you  want  to  make  a  declaration?"  they  asked  him. 

"Take  care  of  my  sister!"  the  unhappy  one  murmured, 
looking  at  the  cuaderillero,  with  supplication. 

The  bamboo  pole  creaked  again,  and  again  the  con- 
demned man  disappeared.  Dona  Consolacion  observed  that 
the  water  remained  still.     The  alferez  counted  a  minute. 

When  Tarsilo  came  up  again,  his  face  was  livid  and 
his  features  contracted.  He  glanced  at  those  standing 
around  and  kept  open  his  bloodshot  eyes. 

"Will  you  make  a  declaration  ?"  asked  the  alferez  again, 
with  vexation. 

Tarsilo  shook  his  head  and  again  they  let  him  down. 
His  eyelids  were  almost  closed  and  his  eyes  were  gazing 
at  the  white  clouds  floating  in  the  heavens.  He  bent  his 
neck  to  keep  sight  of  the  light  of  day,  but  he  was  soon  sub- 
merged in  the  water.  That  filthy  curtain  closed  from  him 
the  sight  of  the  world. 

A  minute  passed.  The  Muse  saw  large  bubbles  of  air 
come  up  to  the  surface  of  the  water. 

"He  is  thirsty,"  said  she,  laughing. 

The  water  was  again  smooth. 

This  time  a  minute  and  a  half  had  passed  when  the 
alferez  gave  the  signal. 

Tarsilo's  features  were  no  longer  contracted.  The  half 
opened  lids  showed  the  white  of  his  eyes.  Muddy  water, 
clotted  with  blood,  ran  out  of  his  mouth.  The  cool  wind 
was  blowing,  but  his  body  no  longer  shivered. 


242  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Those  present,  pale  and  terrified,  looked  at  each  other 
in  silence.  The  alferez  made  a  signal  for  them  to  take 
him  down  from  where  he  was  hanging,  and  stepped  aside 
for  a  few  moments.  Dona  Consolacion  a  number  of  times 
applied  the  lighted  end  of  her  cigar  to  the  bare  legs  of 
Tarsilo,  but  his  body  did  not  quiver.  It  put  out  the 
light. 

"He  has  asphyxiated  himself,'^  murmured  a  cuaderil- 
lero.  "See  how  his  tongue  is  turned,  as  if  he  wanted  to 
swallow  it.'' 

The  other  prisoner,  trembling  and  perspiring,  con- 
templated the  scene.  Like  a  madman  he  looked  about 
him. 

The  alferez  ordered  the  directorcillo  to  question  him. 

"Senor,  Senor,"  he  groaned.  "I  will  tell  you  all  that 
you  wish." 

"Good.    Let  us  see !  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"Andong,  Senor!" 

"Bernardo.  .  .  Leonardo.  .  .  Kicardo.  .  .  Educardo. 
Gerardo.  .  .  or  what  ?" 

"Andong,  Senor,"  repeated  the  imbecile. 

"Call  it  Bernardo  or  whatever  you  please,"  said  the 
alferez,  decided  not  to  bother  more  about  it. 

"What  family  name?" 

The  man  looked  at  him  frightened. 

'that's  your  name?  What  do  you  add  to  the  name 
Andong  ?" 

"Ah,  Senor!    Andong  Medio-tonto  (half -fool),  Senor." 

Those  standing  around  could  not  resist  a  laugh.  The 
alferez  himself  stopped  short. 

"What  is  your  business?" 

"Cocoanut  tree  pruner,  Senor,  and  servant  for  my 
mother-in-law." 

"Who  ordered  you  to  attack  the  cuartelV  ^ 

"Nobody,  Senor." 

"What's  that;  nobody?  Don't  you  lie  or  we  will  put 
you  in  the  well.  Who  ordered  you  to  do  it?  Speak  thg 
truth." 

"That's  the  truth,  Senor." 

"Who?" 

"Who?" 


Vae  Victisl  243 

"I  ask  you  who  ordered  you  to  revolt.'' 

'^hat  revolt,  Senor?" 

"That  one  last  night,  when  you  were  in  the  tribunal 
yard.'' 

"Ah,  Senor!"  exclaimed  Andong,  blushing. 

"Who  was  to  blame  for  that?" 

"My  mother-in-law,  Senor." 

A  laugh  of  surprise  followed  this  reply.  The  alferez 
stopped  and  looked  sharply  at  the  simple  peasant,  who 
believed  that  his  words  had  produced  a  good  effect.  More 
animated,  he  was  about  to  continue  when  the  crack  of  a 
whip  cut  him  short. 

"To  the  jail!"  ordered  the  alferez,  "This  afternoon, 
send  him  to  the  capital." 


244  hriars  and  Hlipinos. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE    ACCURSED. 

The  news  that  the  prisoners  were  going  to  depart  spread 
quickly  through  the  town.  At  first,  the  news  was  heard 
with  terror;  afterward,  came  tears  and  lamentations. 

The  members  of  the  families  of  the  prisoners  were  run- 
ning about  madly.  They  would  go  from  the  convent  to 
the  cuartel  from  the  cuartel  to  the  tribunal,  and  not  find- 
ing consolation  anywhere,  they  filled  the  air  with  cries 
and  moans.  The  curate  had  shut  himself  up  because  he 
was  ill.  The  alferez  had  increased  his  guards,  who  re- 
ceived the  supplicants  with  the  butts  of  their  guns.  The 
gdbernadorcillo,  a  useless  being,  anyway,  seemed  more 
stupid  and  useless  than  ever. 

The  sun  was  burning  hot,  but  none  of  the  unhappy  wo- 
men who  were  gathered  in  front  of  the  cuartel  thought 
of  that.  Doray,  the  gay  and  happy  wife  of  Don  Filipo, 
wandered  about,  with  her  tender  little  child  in  her  arms. 
Both  were  crying. 

*^Get  out  of  the  sun,"  they  said  to  her.  "Your  son  will 
catch  a  fever." 

^^hat  is  the  use  of  his  living  if  he  has  no  father  to 
educate  him?"  replied  the  dispirited  woman. 

"Your  husband  is  innocent.     Perhaps  he  will  return.'* 

"Yes,  when  we  are  in  our  graves." 

Capitana  Tinay  wept  and  cried  for  her  son,  Antonio. 
The  courageous  Capitana  Maria  gazed  toward  the  small 
grate,  behind  which  were  her  twins,  her  only  sons. 

There,  too,  was  the  mother-in-law  of  the  cocoanut  tree 
pruner.  She  was  not  cr)dng ;  she  was  walking  to  and  fro, 
gesticulating,  with  shirt  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  harangu- 
ing the  public. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  anything  equal  to  it?"  said  she. 
*'They  arrest  my  Andong,  wound  him,  put  him  in  the 


The  Accursed.  245 

gtocks,  and  take  him  to  the  capital,  all  because  he  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  cuartel  yard." 

But  few  people  had  any  sympathy  for  the  Mussulman 
mother-in-law. 

"Don  Crisostomo  is  to  blame  for  all  of  this/'  sighed  a 
woman. 

The  school  teacher  also  was  wandering  about  in  the 
crowd.  Nor  Juan  was  no  longer  rubbing  his  hands,  nor 
was  he  carrying  his  yard  stick  and  plumb  line.  He  had 
heard  the  bad  news  and,  faithful  to  his  custom  of  seeing 
the  future  as  a  thing  that  had  already  happened,  he  was 
dressed  in  mourning,  mourning  for  the  death  of  Ibarra. 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  an  uncovered  cart, 
drawn  by  two  oxen,  stopped  in  front  of  the  tribunal. 

The  cart  was  surrounded  by  the  crowd.  They  wanted 
to  destroy  it. 

''Don't  do  that!"  said  Capitana  Maria.  "Do  you  want 
them  to  walk?" 

This  remark  stopped  the  relatives  of  the  prisoners. 
Twenty  soldiers  came  out  and  surrounded  the  cart.  Then 
came  the  prisoners. 

The  first  was  Don  Filipo;  he  was  tied.  He  greeted  his 
wife  with  a  smile.  Doray  broke  into  a  bitter  lamentation 
and  two  soldiers  had  to  work  hard  to  keep  her  from  em- 
bracing her  husband.  Antonio,  the  son  of  Captain  Tinay, 
next  appeared,  crying  like  a  child — a  fact  which  made 
the  family  cry  all  the  more.  The  imbecile,  Andong, 
broke  out  in  a  wail  when  he  saw  his  mother-in-law,  the 
cause  of  his  misfortune.  Albino,  the  former  seminary 
student,  came  out  with  his  hands  tied,  as  did  also  the 
twin  sons  of  Capitana  Maria.  These  three  youths  were 
serious  and  grave.  The  last  who  came  was  Ibarra.  The 
young  man  was  pale.  He  looked  about  for  the  face  of 
Maria  Clara. 

"That  is  the  one  who  is  to  blame!"  cried  many  voices. 
"He  is  to  blame  and  he  will  go  free." 

"My  son-in-law  has  done  nothing  and  he  is  hand- 
cuffed." 

Ibarra  turned  to  the  guards. 

"Tie  me,  and  tie  me  well,  elbow  to  elbow,"  said  he. 

*^e  have  no  orders." 


24et  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Tie  me  r 

The  soldiers  obeyed. 

The  alferez  appeared  on  horse-back,  armed  to  the  teeth. 
Ten  or  fifteen  more  soldiers  followed  him. 

Each  of  the  prisoners  had  there  in  the  crowd  his  family 
praying  for  him,  weeping  for  him,  and  calling  him  b  - 
the  most  affectionate  names.  Ibarra  was  the  only  exception. 
Even  iS'or  Juan  himself  and  the  school-teacher  had  dis- 
appeared. 

^'What  have  you  done  to  my  husband  and  my  son  ?"  said 
Doray  to  Ibarra,  crying.  "See  my  poor  boy!  You  have 
deprived  him  of  a  father !" 

The  grief  of  the  people  was  changed  to  wrath  against 
the  young  man,  accused  of  having  provoked  the  riot.  The 
alferez  gave  orders  to  depart. 

"You  are  a  coward!"  cried  the  mother-in-law  of  An- 
dong  to  Ibarra.  "While  the  others  were  fighting  for  you, 
you  were  hiding.     Coward!" 

"Curses  upon  you !"  shouted  an  old  man  following  him. 
"Cursed  be  the  gold  hoarded  up  by  your  family  to  disturb 
our  peace !     Curse  him !     Curse  him  !" 

"May  they  hang  you,  heretic!"  cried  one  of  Albino's 
relatives.  And  unable  to  restrain  himself,  he  picked 
up  a  stone  and  threw  it  at  Ibarra. 

The  example  was  quickly  imitated,  and  a  shower  of  dust 
and  stones  fell  on  the  unfortunate  youth. 

Ibarra  suffered  it  all,  impassive,  without  wrath,  with- 
out a  complaint — the  unjust  vengeance  of  suffering 
hearts.  This  was  the  leave-taking,  the  "adios"  tendered 
to  him  by  his  town,  the  center  of  all  his  affections.  He 
bowed  his  head.  Perhaps  he  was  thinking  of  another  man, 
whipped  through  the  streets  of  Manila,  of  an  old  woman 
falling  dead  at  the  sight  of  the  head  of  her  son.  Per- 
haps the  history  of  Elias  was  passing  before  his  eyes. 

The  cortege  moved  slowly  on  and  away. 

Of  the  persons  who  appeared  in  a  few  opened  win- 
dows, those  who  showed  the  most  compassion  for  the  un- 
fprtunate  young  man  were  the  indifferent  and  the  curious. 
All  his  friends  had  hidden  themselves;  yes,  even  Captain 
Basilio,  who  forbade  his  daughter  Sinang  to  weep. 

Ibarra  saw  the  smouldering  ruins  of  his  house,  of  the 


The  Accursed.  247 

house  of  his  fathers  where  he  had  been  born,  where  he 
had  lived  the  sweetest  days  of  his  infancy  and  childhood. 
Tears,  for  a  long  time  suppressed,  burst  from  his  eyes. 
He  bowed  his  head  and  wept,  wept  without  the  consolation 
of  being  able  to  hide  his  weeping,  tied  as  he  was  by  the 
elbows.  Nor  did  that  grief  awaken  compassion  in  any- 
body. Now  he  had  neither  fatherland,  home,  love,  friends 
or  future. 

From  a  height  a  man  contemplated  the  funeral-like  car- 
avan. He  was  old,  pale,  thin,  wrapped  in  a  woollen 
blanket  and  was  leaning  with  fatigue  on  a  cane.  It  was 
old  Tasio,  who  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  what  had  happened 
wanted  to  leave  his  bed  and  attend,  but  his  strength  would 
not  permit  it.  The  old  man  followed  with  his  eyes  the 
cart  until  it  disappeared  in  the  distance.  He  stood  for 
Bome  time,  pensive  and  his  head  bowed  down;  then  he 
arose,  and  laboriously  started  on  the  road  to  his  house, 
resting  at  every  step. 

The  following  day,  shepherds  found  him  dead  on  the 
very  threshold  of  his  solitary  retreat. 


248  Friars  and  Filipinos. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

MART  A    CLARA    IS    MAKEIED. 

Captain  Tiago  was  very  happy.  During  all  this  ter- 
rible time  nobody  had  busied  himself  with  him.  They 
had  not  arrested  him,  nor  had  they  submitted  him  to  ex- 
communications, court  trials,  electrical  machines,  con- 
tinual hot  foot  baths  in  subterranean  places,  or  to  any  of  the 
other  punishments  which  are  well  known  to  certain  people 
who  call  themselves  civilized.  He  had  returned  to  his 
Manila  house.  Those  who  had  been  the  Captain's 
friends — for  he  had  renounced  all  his  Filipino  friends 
from  the  moment  that  they  were  suspected  by  the  Govern- 
ment— ^had  also  returned  to  their  homes  after  some  days 
of  vacation  spent  in  the  Government  buildings.  The  Gov- 
ernor General  had  himself  ordered  these  people  to  leave 
their  possessions,  for  he  had  not  thought  it  fitting  that 
they  should  remain  in  them  during  the  great  danger. 

Captain  Tiago  was  overflowing  with  gratitude,  but  he 
did  not  know  exactly  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  such 
signal  favors.  Aunt  Isabel  attributed  the  miracle  to  the 
Virgin  of  Antipolo,  to  the  Virgin  of  the  Rosary,  or  at 
least  to  the  Virgin  of  Carmen.  The  least  that  she  would 
concede  was  that  it  was  due  to  Our  Lady  of  Corea.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Aunt,  the  miracle  was  certainly  due  to  one 
of  these  Virgins.  Captain  Tiago  did  not  deny  that  it  was 
a  miracle,  but  he  added: 

^'1  do  not  believe,  Isabel,  that  the  Virgin  of  Antipolo 
could  have  done  it  alone.  My  friends  have  aided  in  it; 
my  future  son-in-law,  Senor  Linares  has,  as  you  know, 
joked  with  Senor  Antonio  Canovas  himself,  whose  por- 
trait we  saw  in  'Illustracion.' ^^ 

And  the  good  man  could  not  suppress  a  smile  every  time 
that  he  heard  any  important  news  about  the  event.  And 
there  was  good  reason  for  it.  It  was  whispered  about  that 
Ibarra  was  going  to  be  hanged ;  that,  even  if  many  proofs 


Maria  Clara  is  Married.  249 

had  been  lacking,  at  last  one  had  appeared  which  could 
confirm  the  accusation;  and  that  skilled  workmen  had  de- 
clared that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  work  for  the  school- 
house  could  pass  for  a  fort  or  a  fortification.  Even  if 
defective  in  some  parts,  that  was  as  much  as  could  be  ex- 
pected from  ignorant  Indians.  These  rumors  quieted 
the  Captain  and  made  him  smile. 

Just  as  the  Captain  and  his  cousin.  Aunt  Isabel,  were 
of  different  opinions  about  the  miracle,  so,  too,  the  other 
friends  of  the  family  were  divided  into  different  parties — 
those  who  followed  the  miracle  monger,  and  those  who  fol- 
lowed the  Government.  The  latter  party,  however,  was 
quite  insignificant.  The  miracle  mongers  were  sub-di- 
vided into  other  factions:  the  Sacristan  Mayor  of  Bi- 
nondo,  the  woman  who  sold  the  wax  candles,  and  the 
chief  of  one  of  the  brotherhoods,  all  saw  the  hand  of  God 
in  the  miracle,  moved  by  the  Virgin  of  the  Rosary.  The 
Chinese  candle  maker,  who  provided  the  Captain  when- 
ever he  went  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Antipolo,  was  saying  as 
he  sat  fanning  himself  and  wiggling  his  foot : 

"What  for  you  belong  foolish?  Thisee  belong  Mergin 
Antipolo.  She  can  do  muchy  more:  others,  no  can  do. 
No  belong  plopper  say  pidgin  belong  other  man." 

Captain  Tiago  held  the  Chinaman  in  great  estimation 
and  made  him  pass  for  a  prophet  and  doctor.  Examining 
the  hand  of  his  deceased  wife  in  the  sixth  month  of  her 
pregnancy,  he  had  prophesied: 

"If  thisee  one  no  b'long  man,  and  no  go  dead  side,  will 
b'long  bery  good  woman." 

And  so  it  was  that  Maria  Clara  came  to  this  earth 
and  fulfilled  the  Chinaman's  prophecy. 

Captain  Tiago,  being  a  prudent  and  timid  person, 
could  not  decide  the  question  of  the  miracle  as  easily  as 
the  Trojan  Paris.  He  could  not  give  preference  to  one 
of  the  Virgins  for  fear  of  offending  some  other  of  them, 
a  thing  which  might  bring  about  grave  results.  "Pru- 
dence," he  said  to  himself.  ^*Be  prudent !  Let  us  not  lose 
all  now." 

He  was  in  the  midst  of  these  doubts  when  the  party  in 
favor  of  the  Government,  or  the  Governmental  party, 
arrived,  viz..  Dona  Victorina,  Don  Tiburcio,  and  Linars. 


250  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

Dona  Victorina  did  all  the  talking  for  the  three  men 
and  for  herself  also.  She  mentioned  the  visits  which 
Linares  had  made  to  the  Governor  General,  and  repeatedly 
brought  out  the  benefits  derived  from  having  a  relative 
of  categoria. 

For  some  days  past,  she  had  been  trying  to  be  Anda- 
lusian  by  suppressing  the  d  in  all  words  and  in  changing 
the  s  to  z.  No  one  could  get  the  idea  out  of  her  head; 
she  would  prefer  to  lose  her  front  curls  first. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  in  speaking  of  Ibarra.  "That  fellow 
merits  very  well  all  that  he  is  going  to  get.  I  told  you  so 
when  I  saw  him  for  the  first  time.  I  told  you  he  was  a 
ftlihustero.  What  did  the  General  tell  you,  cousin  ?  What 
did  he  say  ?    What  news  did  you  give  him  about  Ibarra  ?" 

Seeing  that  the  cousin  hesitated  in  his  reply,  she  went 
on,  directing  her  words  to  Captain  Tiago. 

"Believe  me,  if  they  convict  him,  as  is  to  be  hoped,  it 
will  be  through  my  cousin.'' 

"Senora,  Seiiora !"  protested  Linares. 

But  she  did  not  give  him  any  time. 

"Oh,  what  a  diplomat  you  have  turned  out  to  be !  But 
we  all  know  that  you  are  the  adviser  of  the  Governor 
General,  that  he  could  not  live  without  you.  Ah !  What 
a  pleasure  to  see  you,  Clarita." 

Maria  Clara  seemed  paler  than  ever,  although  she  was 
now  quite  recovered  from  her  illness.  Sadly  smiling,  she 
approached  and  greeted  Dona  Victorina  with  a  formal 
kiss. 

After  the  customary  words  had  been  exchanged.  Dona 
went  on  with  her  false  Andalusian. 

"We  came  to  visit  you.  You  have  been  saved  by  the 
efforts  of  your  friends," — looking  significantly  at  Linares. 

"God  has  protected  my  father,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"Yes,  Clarita,  but  the  time  for  miracles  has  passed  long 
ago.  As  we  Spaniards  say:  'Have  no  trust  in  the  Virgin 
and  save  yourself  by  running.' " 

"The — th — the  ot — ot — other  way,"  said  the  doctor,  cor- 
recting her  proverbial  quotation. 

Captain  Tiago,  who  had  not  yet  found  opportunity  to 
say  a  word,  ventured  to  ask  her,  giving  much  attention 


Maria  Clara  is  Married.  251 

to  her  reply:  "So  yon.  Dona  Victorina,  believe  that  the 
Virgin.  .  .   ?" 

"That  is  precisely  what  we  came  for,  to  speak  to  you 
about  the  Virgin,"  replied  she,  indicating  Maria  Clara. 
"We  have  a  matter  to  talk  over." 

The  maiden  understood  that  she  ought  to  retire.  She 
sought  an  excuse  and  went  away,  supporting  herself  on 
the  furniture  as  she  walked  along. 

What  was  said  in  the  conference  which  followed  was 
so  low  and  mean  that  we  prefer  to  omit  it.  It  is  suffi- 
cient for  us  to  say  that  when  they  took  their  leave  all  were 
happy,  and  that  Captain  Tiago  afterward  said  to  his 
cousin : 

"Isabel,  send  word  to  the  restaurant  that  we  are  going 
to  give  a  fiesta  to-morrow.  You  get  Maria  ready  to  be 
married  in  a  short  time." 

Aunt  Isabel  looked  at  him,  surprised. 

"You  will  see!  When  Senor  Linares  is  our  son-in-law 
all  the  palaces  will  be  open  to  us.  They  will  be  envying 
us ;  they  will  all  die  with  envy." 

And  thus  it  was  that  at  eight  o'clock  on  the  following 
evening.  Captain  Tiago's  house  was  again  full  of  guests, 
only  that  this  time  the  men  whom  he  had  invited  were 
either  Spaniards  or  Chinamen,  while  the  fair  sex  was  rep- 
resented by  Spaniards  bom  in  the  Peninsula  or  in  the 
Philippines. 

The  larger  part  of  our  acquaintances  was  there:  Father 
Sibyla,  Father  Salvi  and  several  other  Franciscans  and 
Dominicans,  the  old  lieutenant  of  the  Civil  Guard,  Senor 
Guevara,  more  melancholy  than  ever;  the  alferez,  who  re- 
lated his  battle  for  the  thousandth  time,  feeling  himself 
head  and  shoulders  above  everybody  and  a  veritable  Don 
Juan  de  Austria,  now  a  lieutenant  with  the  rank  of  com- 
mander; De  Espadana,  who  looked  at  the  former  with  re- 
spect and  fear  and  avoided  his  glance;  and  the  indignant 
Dona  Victorina.  Linares  was  not  yet  present,  for,  being 
a  very  important  personage,  it  was  fitting  that  he  should 
arrive  later  than  the  others. 

Maria  Clara,  the  subject  of  all  the  gossip,  was  the  center 
of  a  group  of  women.  She  had  greeted  and  received  them 
ceremoniously,  but  did  not  throw  off  her  air  of  sadness. 


252  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"Psh !"  said  one  of  the  girls.     "A  little  stuck-up  V' 

"A  cute  little  thing/'  replied  another,  "but  he  might 
have  selected  some  one  of  a  more  intelligent  appearance.'' 

"It's  the  money;  he's  a  good-looking  fellow  and  sells 
himself  for  a  good  price." 

In  another  part  of  the  room  they  were  talking  like 
this: 

"Marry,  when  her  former  betrothed  is  about  to  be 
hanged  V 

"I  call  that  prudence;  to  have  one  on  hand  as  a  sub- 
stitute." 

Possibly  the  young  maiden  heard  these  remarks  as  she 
sat  in  a  chair  near  by,  arranging  a  tray  of  flowers,  for  her 
hand  was  seen  to  tremble,  she  turned  pale  and  bit  her  lips 
a  number  of  times. 

The  conversation  among  the  men  was  in  a  loud  tone. 
Naturally,  they  were  conversant  with  the  recent  happen- 
ings. All  were  talking,  even  Don  Tiburcio,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Father  Sibyla,  who  maintained  a  disdainful 
silence. 

"I  have  heard  that  Your  Keverence  leaves  the  town, 
Father  Salvi?"  asked  the  newly  made  lieutenant,  now 
made  more  amiable  by  the  star  on  his  sleeve. 

"I  have  nothing  more  to  do  now  in  San  Diego.  I  am 
permanently  settled  in  Manila  now.  .  .  and  you?" 

"I  also  leave  the  town,"  replied  the  former  alferez, 
straightening  up.  "The  Government  needs  me  to  take 
command  of  a  flying  column  to  clear  the  provinces  of 
filibusteros." 

Friar  Salvi  looked  him  over  from  head  to  foot,  and 
turned  his  back  to  him  completely. 

"Is  it  yet  known  for  a  certainty  what  is  to  become  of 
the  leader  of  the  revolutionists?"  asked  a  Government 
employee. 

"Are  you  referring  to  Crisostomo  Ibarra?"  asked  an- 
other. "What  is  most  probable  and  most  just  is  that  he 
be  hanged,  as  those  were  in  '72." 

"He  will  be  exiled,"  said  the  old  lieutenant,  dryly. 

"Exiled !  Nothing  more  than  exiled !  But  it  will  be  a 
perpetual  exile!"  exclaimed  several  at  the  same  time. 

"If  that  young  fellow,"  Lieutenant  Guevara  went  on  to 


Maria  Clara  is  Married.  253 

say  in  a,  loud  voice,  ^Tiad  been  more  cautions;  if  he  had 
trusted  certain  people  less  with  whom  he  had  correspond- 
ence; and  if  the  officers  had  not  made  a  subtle  interpre- 
tation of  what  was  written — if  it  had  not  been  for  all  of 
this,  that  young  man  would  surely  have  gone  free." 

This  statement  by  the  old  lieutenant  and  the  tone  of 
his  voice  produced  a  great  surprise  in  the  room.  Those 
who  heard  it  did  not  know  what  to  say.  Father  Salvi 
looked  in  another  direction,  perhaps  so  as  not  to  meet  the 
dark  look  which  the  old  man  directed  toward  him.  Maria 
Clara  dropped  her  flowers  and  sat  motionless.  Father 
Sibyla,  the  one  who  knew  how  to  keep  silent,  appeared  to 
be  the  only  one  who  knew  how  to  ask  questions. 

"Are  you  referring  to  the  letters,  Senor  Guevara?" 

"I  am  telling  what  the  defendant's  attorney  told  me. 
He  has  taken  up  the  case  with  zeal  and  interest.  Aside 
from  some  ambiguous  lines  which  this  young  man  wrote 
to  a  young  woman  before  departing  for  Europe,  they  have 
found  no  proof  to  sustain  the  accusation.  In  these  few 
lines,  the  officers  saw  a  plan  and  threat  against  the  Gov- 
ernment." 

"And  what  about  the  declaration  made  by  the  bandit 
before  he  died?" 

"That  statement  has  proved  of  no  account,  since,  ac- 
cording to  the  bandit  himself,  the  conspirators  never  had 
communicated  with  the  young  man,  but  only  with  one, 
Lucas,  who  was  Ibarra's  enemy,  as  they  have  been  able  to 
prove,  and  who  committed  suicide,  perhaps  from  remorse. 
It  has  been  proved  that  the  papers  found  in  the  possession 
of  the  dead  man  were  forged,  since  the  handwriting  was 
like  that  of  Ibarra  seven  years  ago,  but  not  like  that  of 
to-day — a  fact  which  shows  that  it  was  copied  from  the  let- 
ter used  as  evidence  against  him.  Besides,  his  attorney 
says  that  if  Ibarra  had  not  admitted  the  genuineness  of 
the  letter,  he  would  have  been  able  to  do  much  for  him; 
but,  at  the  sight  of  it,  the  young  man  turned  pale,  lost 
heart  and  acknowledged  that  he  had  written  it." 

"Do  you  say,"  asked  a  Franciscan,  "that  the  letter  was 
directed  to  a  young  woman?  How  did  it  get  into  the 
hands  of  the  officers  ?" 

The  lieutenant  did  not  reply.     He  looked  for  a  mo- 


254  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

ment  at  Friar  Salvi  and  then  walked  off,  twisting  nervously 
the  end  of  his  grey  beard.  In  the  meantime,  others  were 
commenting  something  like  this : 

"There  you  see  the  hand  of  God !"  said  one.  "Even  the 
women  hate  him.'' 

"He  had  his  house  burned,  thinking  that  he  could  thus 
save  himself.  But  he  did  not  reckon  with  his  host — that 
is,  with  his  querida*  with  his  hahai/'*  added  another,  smil- 
ing.   "That  is  God's  work.    Santiago  protects  Spain  I" 

The  old  army  officer  stopped  and  approached  Maria 
Clara.  She  was  listening  to  the  conversation,  immovable 
in  her  seat.    The  flowers  were  at  her  feet. 

"You  are  a  very  prudent  young  woman,"  said  the  old 
lieutenant  to  her  in  a  low  voice.  "You  have  done  well 
to  hand  over  the  letter.  .  .  In  this  way  you  will  assure 
yourself  of  a  peaceful  future." 

With  dull  eyes,  and  biting  her  lips,  she  looked  at  him  as 
he  walked  away.  Luckily,  Aunt  Isabel  passed  her  at  this 
moment.  Maria  Clara  summoned  enough  strength  to 
catch  hold  of  her  aunt's  dress. 

"Aunt,"  she  murmured. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?"  asked  the  latter, 
frightened,  as  she  saw  the  young  woman's  face. 

"Take  me  to  my  room !"  she  begged,  clinging  to  the  arm 
of  the  old  woman  in  order  to  raise  herself  to  her  feet. 

"Are  you  sick,  my  child?  You  seem  to  have  lost  all 
your  strength.    What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

"A  little  sick  to  my  stomach.  .  .  the  crowd  in  the  sala 
...  so  much  light.  .  .  I  need  to  rest.  Tell  father  that 
I  am  going  to  sleep." 

"You  are  cold !    Do  you  want  some  tea  ?" 

Maria  Clara  shook  her  head  negatively.  She  closed 
the  door  of  her  room  and  locked  it,  and,  her  strength 
failing  her,  she  fell  to  the  floor,  at  the  feet  of  an  image, 
weeping  and  sobbing: 

"Mother,  mother,  my  mother !" 

The  moonlight  was  shining  through  the  open  window 
and  door  which  led  out  upon  the  azotea. 

The   orchestra   continued   playing   gay   waltzes.     The 
laughter  and  the  hum  of  convorsation  could  be  heard  in 
*Both  words  mean  mistress. 


Maria  Clara  is  Married.  255 

her  bedroom.  A  number  of  times  her  family,  Aunt  Isabel, 
Dona  Victorina,  and  even  Linares,  knocked  at  her  door, 
but  Maria  Clara  did  not  move.  There  was  a  rattle  in  her 
throat. 

Hours  passed.  The  pleasures  of  the  table  ended,  and 
dancing  followed.  Her  little  candle  burned  out,  but  the 
maiden  lay  quietly  on  the  floor,  the  rays  of  moonlight 
shining  upon  her  at  the  foot  of  an  image  of  the  Mother 
of  Jesus. 

Gradually  the  noises  in  the  house  died  away,  the  lights 
were  put  out,  and  Aunt  Isabel  again  knocked  at  the  door 
of  her  room. 

"Let  us  leave  her ;  she  is  sleeping,^'  said  her  aunt.  "At 
her  age,  with  nothing  to  trouble  her,  she  sleeps  like  a 
corpse." 

When  all  was  again  silent,  Maria  arose  slowly  and 
glanced  around  her.  She  saw  the  azotea  and  the  small 
climbing  plants  bathed  in  the  melancholy  light  of  the 
moon. 

"A  peaceful  future !  Sleeping  like  a  corpse !"  sl\e  mur- 
mured in  a  low  voice,  and  turned  toward  the  azotea. 

The  city  was  quiet.  Only  the  noise  of  an  occasional 
carriage  passing  over  the  wooden  bridge  could  be  heard 
in  the  stillness  of  the  night,  while  the  tranquil  waters 
of  the  river  were  reflecting  the  moonlight. 

The  maiden  raised  her  eyes  to  the  pure,  sapphire-col- 
ored sky.  Slowly  she  took  off  her  rings,  her  hair-combs, 
her  earrings,  and  her  breast-pin,  and  placing  them  upon 
the  balustrade  of  the  azotea  she  looked  out  toward  the 
river. 

A  hanca,  loaded  with  rice  grass,  stopped  at  the  foot  of 
the  landing  on  the  bank  of  the  river  at  the  rear  of  the 
house.  One  of  the  two  men  who  were  propelling  the  boat 
went  up  the  stone  steps,  leaped  over  the  wall,  and  a  few 
seconds  afterward,  steps  were  heard  coming  up  the  azotea. 

Maria  Clara  saw  him  stop  on  discovering  her,  but  it 
was  for  only  a  moment.  The  man  advanced  slowly  and 
at  about  three  steps  from  the  maiden,  stopped  again. 
Maria  Clara  stepped  back. 

"Crisostomo  \"  she  gasped,  full  of  terror. 

"Yes,  I  am  Crisostomo!"  replied  the  young  man,  in  a 


256  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

grare  Toice.  "An  enemy,  a  man  who  has  good  reason  to 
hate  me,  Elias,  has  helped  me  out  of  the  prison  into  which 
my  friends  had  thrown  me." 

Silence  followed  these  words.  Maria  Clara  bowed  her 
head  and  allowed  both  her  hands  to  drop  at  her  side. 

Ibarra  continued: 

'^Beside  the  dead  body  of  my  mother,  I  swore  to  make 
you  happy,  whatever  might  be  my  destiny.  You  can 
break  your  oath;  she  was  not  your  mother.  But  I,  who 
am  her  son,  I  hold  her  memory  sacred,  and,  running  great 
risk,  I  have  come  here  to  fulfill  my  oath.  Fortune 
permits  me  to  speak  with  you  personally.  Maria,  we  shall 
not  see  each  other  again.  You  are  young  and  perhaps 
some  day  your  conscience  may  accuse  you.  .  .  I  come 
to  tell  you,  before  leaving,  that  I  forgive  you.  Now,  may 
you  be  happy,  and  good-bye!" 

Ibarra  tried  to  leave,  but  the  maiden  stopped  him. 

''Crisostomo  V  she  said.  "God  has  sent  you  to  save  me 
from  desperation.  .  .  Hear  me  and  judge  me!" 

Ibarra  wished  to  withdraw  gently  from  her. 

"I  have  not  come,"  said  he,  "to  call  you  to  account.  .  . 
I  have  come  to  give  you  peace." 

"I  do  not  want  the  peace  which  you  give  me.  I  will 
give  myself  peace.  You  despise  me,  and  your  contempt 
will  make  my  life  bitter  till  death." 

Ibarra  saw  the  poor  girl's  desperation,  and  asked  her 
what  she  desired. 

"That  you  may  believe  that  I  have  always  loved  you." 

Crisostomo  smiled  bitterly. 

"Ah !  You  doubt  me,  you  doubt  the  friend  of  your  in- 
fancy, who  has  never  hidden  a  single  thought  from  you," 
exclaimed  she  in  grief.  "I  understand  you.  When  you 
know  my  history,  the  history  which  they  revealed  to  me 
during  my  illness,  you  will  pity  me  and  you  will  no  longer 
answer  my  grief  with  that  bitter  smile.  Why  did  you  not 
let  me  die  in  the  hands  of  my  ignorant  doctor?  You 
and  I  would  have  been  happier  then." 

Maria  Clara  rested  a  moment  and  then  continued: 

"You  have  doubted  me;  you  have  wished  my  mother 
to  pardon  me.  During  one  of  those  nights  of  suffering, 
a  man  revealed  to  me  the  name  of  my  true  father,  and  for- 


Maria  Clara  is  Married.  257 

bade  me  to  love  you.  .  .  unless  my  true  father  should 
pardon  you  for  the  offense  you  committed  against  him." 

Ibarra  recoiled  and  looked  in  terror  at  the  maiden. 

"Yes,"  she  continued.  "This  man  told  me  that  he 
could  not  permit  our  marriage,  since  his  conscience  would 
not  allow  it,  and  he  would  find  himself  compelled  to 
publish  the  truth  at  the  risk  of  causing  a  great  scandal, 
because  my  father  is.  .  .  " 

And  she  whispered  a  name  in  the  young  man's  ear  in 
a  scarcely  audible  voice. 

"What  was  I  to  do?  Ought  I  to  sacrifice  to  my  love 
the  memory  of  my  mother,  the  honor  of  the  man  who 
innocently  supposes  himself  my  father,  and  the  good 
name  of  my  real  father?  Could  I  do  that  without  you 
despising  me  for  it?" 

"But  the  proof?  Have  you  proof?  You  need  proof!" 
exclaimed  Crisostomo,  deeply  agitated. 

The  maiden  drew  two  letters  from  her  bosom. 

"Two  of  my  mother's  letters:  two  letters  written  in 
remorse  before  I  was  born.  Take  them,  read  them  and 
you  will  see  how  she  cursed  me  and  desired  my  death, 
which  my  father  in  vain  tried  to  cause  by  drugs.  These 
letters  were  forgotten  in  the  house  where  he  lived ;  a  man 
found  them  and  kept  them.  They  would  only  give  them 
to  me  in  exchange  for  your  letter.  ...  to  make  certain, 
as  they  said,  that  I  would  not  marry  you  without  the  con- 
sent of  my  father.  From  the  time  that  I  began  to  carry 
them  in  my  bosom  instead  of  your  letter,  my  heart  was 
chilled.  I  sacrificed  you,  I  sacrificed  my  love.  .  .  What 
would  not  a  person  do  for  a  dead  mother  and  two  living 
fathers  ?  Did  I  suspect  the  use  to  which  they  were  going  to 
put  your  letter?" 

Ibarra  was  prostrated.     Maria  Clara  went  on: 

'^hat  was  there  left  for  me?  Could  I  tell  you  who 
was  my  father?  Could  I  ask  you  to  seek  the  pardon  of 
him  who  had  so  much  desired  my  death,  and  who  made 
your  father  suffer?  There  was  nothing  left  for  me  but 
to  keep  the  secret  to  myself,  and  to  die  suffering.  .  .  Now, 
my  friend,  you  know  the  sad  history  of  your  poor  Maria. 
Will  you  still  have  that  contemptuous  smile  for  her?" 

"Maria,  you  are  a  saint," 


258  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

"I  am  happy  now  that  you  believe  me." 

^^owever/'  added  the  young  man,  changing  his  tone 
*'^I  have  heard  that  you  are  about  to  marry." 

^TTes,"  sobbed  the  maiden.  "My  father  asked  this  sac 
rifice  of  me.  He  has  fed  me  and  loved  me,  and  it  wa 
not  his  duty.  I  pay  him  this  debt  of  gratitude  which  ; 
owe  him  by  assuring  him  peace  through  this  new  relative 
but.  .  .  " 

"But?" 

"I  shall  not  forget  the  oaths  of  fidelity  wEich  I  mad 
to  you." 

"What  do  you  think  of  doing?"  asked  Ibarra,  trying 
to  read  her  eyes. 

^^The  future  is  obscure  and  Destiny  is  hidden  in  dark 
ness.  I  do  not  know  what  I  am  to  do ;  but  I  know  that  " 
can  love  only  once,  and  that  without  love  I  never  wil 
belong  to  any  one.    And  you,  what  is  to  become  of  you?' 

"I  am  nothing  but  a  fugitive.  .  .  I  am  fleeing.  In  i 
very  short  time,  they  will  discover  my  escape,  Maria.  .  .  .' 

Maria  Clara  clasped  her  arms  about  her  lover's  neck 
kissed  his  lips  repeatedly,  hugged  him,  and  then,  abruptly 
breaking  away  from  him,  said: 

"Flee!     flee!     AdiosT 

Ibarra  looked  at  her,  his  eyes  sparkling,  but  she  mo 
tioned  and  he  went  away,  staggering  like  a  drunken  man 
Again  he  leaped  over  the  wall  and  entered  the  hanca 
Maria  Clara,  leaning  on  the  door  casing,  watched  him  de- 
part. 

Elias  took  off  his  hat  and  bowed  profoundly. 


The  Pursuit  on  the  Lake.  259 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE  PURSUIT  ON  THE  LAKE. 

^TJiSTEN^  Senor,  to  my  plan/'  said  Elias,  as  they  di- 
rected the  lanca  toward  San  Miguel.  "I  will  for  the 
present  hide  you  in  the  house  of  my  friend  in  Mandalu- 
yong.  I  will  bring  you  all  your  money,  which  I  have 
saved  and  kept  for  you  at  the  foot  of  the  old  haliti  tree, 
in  the  mysterious  tomb  of  your  grandfather.  You  shall 
leave  the  country.^' 

"To  go  to  a  strange  land?"  interrupted  Ibarra. 

''To  live  in  peace  the  remaining  days  of  your  life.  You 
have  friends  in  Spain,  you  are  rich,  you  can  get  yourself 
pardoned.  By  all  means,  a  foreign  land  is  better  for  you 
than  your  own  country." 

Crisosotomo  did  not  reply.    He  meditated  in  silence. 

Just  then  they  reached  the  Pasig  and  t\iQ~-hanca  was 
headed  up  the  stream.  Over  the  Bridge  of  Spain  a  horse- 
man was  galloping  at  high  speed,  and  a  prolonged,  sharp 
whistle  was  heard. 

"Elias,"  replied  Ibarra,  "you  owe  your  misfortunes  to 
my  family;  you  have  saved  my  life  twice;  I  owe  you  not 
only  gratitude,  but  also  restitution  of  your  fortune.  You 
advise  me  to  go  to  a  foreign  land  and  live ;  then  come  with 
me  and  we  will  live  like  brothers.  Here,  you,  too,  are 
miserable." 

Elias  sadly  replied: 

"Impossible !  It  is  true  that  I  can  neither  love  nor  be 
happy  in  my  country;  but  I  can  suffer  and  die  in  it,  and 
perhaps  die  for  it;  that  would  be  something.  Let  my 
country's  misfortune  be  my  own  misfortune.  Since  no 
noble  thought  unites  us,  and  since  our  hearts  do  not 
beat  in  harmony  at  the  mention  of  a  single  word,  at  least, 
let  a  common  misery  unite  me  to  my  fellow  countrymen; 


260  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

at  least,  let  me  weep  with  them  over  our  grief;  let  tHe 
same  misery  oppress  all  our  hearts/' 

"Then  why  do  you  advise  me  to  leave?" 

'because  in  other  lands  you  can  be  happy,  and  I  can- 
not; because  you  are  not  made  to  suffer,  and  because  you 
would  hate  your  country,  if  some  day  you  should  see  the 
cause  of  your  misfortune:  and  to  hate  one's  own  country 
is  the  greatest  misery." 

"You  are  unjust  to  me,"  exclaimed  Ibarra,  with  bitter 
reproach.  "You  forget  that  I  have  scarcely  arrived  here, 
and  that  I  have  already  sought  its  welfare." 

"Do  not  be  offended,  Seiior.  I  am  not  reproaching 
you.  Would  to  God  that  all  might  imitate  you.  But  I 
do  not  ask  for  the  impossible  and  you  should  not  be  offended 
if  I  tell  you  that  your  heart  deceives  you.  You  love  your 
country  because  your  father  has  taught  you  to  love  it ;  you 
love  it  because  you  had  in  it  your  love,  your  fortune,  your 
youth;  because  it  smiled  on  you,  and  because  it  has  not 
until  now  done  you  an  injustice.  You  love  your  country 
as  we  all  love  that  which  makes  us  happy.  But,  on  that 
day  when  you  see  yourself  poor,  ragged,  hungry,  per- 
secuted, denounced  and  betrayed  by  your  very  country- 
men, on  that  day  you  will  curse  yourself,  your  country  and 
all." 

"Your  words  grieve  me,"  said  Ibarra,  resentfully. 

Elias  bowed  his  head,  meditated  and  replied: 

"I  wish  to  set  you  right,  Senor,  and  to  avoid  a  miserable 
future  for  you.  You  remember  the  time  when  I  was 
talking  to  you  in  this  same  hanca  and  under  the  light  of 
the  same  moon.  It  was  a  month  ago,  a  few  days  more  or 
less.  Then  you  were  happy.  The  plea  of  the  unfortu- 
nates did  not  reach  you.  You  disdained  their  complaints 
because  they  were  complaints  from  criminals.  You  gave 
ear  to  their  enemies,  and,  in  spite  of  my  reasons  and  pleas, 
you  put  yourself  on  the  side  of  their  oppressors.  On 
you  depended  at  that  time  whether  I  should  turn  criminal 
or  allow  my  life  to  be  taken  in  fulfillment  of  my  sacred 
pledge.  God  has  not  permitted  it,  because  the  old  chief 
of  the  bandits  has  been  killed.  A  month  has  passed  and 
now  you  think  differently." 

^Tou  are  right,  !E)lias,  but  man  is  influenced  by  change! 


The  Pursuit  on  the  Lake.  261 

in  circumstances.  Then  I  was  blind,  and  obstinate.  What 
did  I  know?  Now  misfortune  has  torn  the  veil  from  my 
eyes.  The  solitude  and  misery  of  my  prison  life  have 
taught  me;  now  I  see  the  horrible  cancer  which  is  sap- 
ping the  life  of  society,  which  hangs  to  its  flesh  and  which 
requires  violent  extirpation.  They  have  opened  my  eyes; 
they  have  made  me  see  the  ulcer;  they  force  me  to  be- 
come a  criminal.  I  will  be  a  filibiLstero,  but  a  true  filihus- 
tero.  I  will  call  upon  all  the  unfortunates,  on  all  who  have 
beating  hearts  within  their  breasts,  on  all  who  sent  you  to 
me.  .  .  .  No,  no !  I  will  not  be  criminal !  It  is  never 
a  crime  to  fight  for  one's  country !  We  for  three  centuries 
have  given  them  our  hand,  we  have  asked  them  for  their 
love,  we  have  anxiously  wished  to  call  tliem  our  brothers. 
How  have  they  replied?  With  insults  and  jests,  denying 
us  even  the  quality  of  being  human  beings.  There  is  no 
God,  there  is  no  hope,  there  is  no  humanity.  There  is  noth- 
ing but  the  right  of  force." 

Ibarra  was  excited.     His  whole  body  was  trembling. 

They  passed  by  the  Governor  General's  palace,  and  be- 
lieved they  saw  agitation  and  movement  among  the 
guards.  , 

"Have  they  discovered  our  flight?"  murmured  Elias. 
"Lie  down,  Senor,  so  that  I  can  cover  you  up  with  the 
grass,  for,  when  we  cross  over  to  the  side  of  the  river 
near  the  powder  house,  the  sentry  may  be  surprised  at  see- 
ing two  of  us  in  this  small  banca/' 

As  Elias  had  foreseen,  the  sentry  stopped  him  and  asked 
him  where  he  came  from. 

"From  Manila,  with  grass  for  the  magistrates  and  cu- 
rates," replied  he,^  imitating  the  accent  of  one  from  Pan- 
dakan. 

A  sergeant  came  out  and  was  informed  what  was  going 
on. 

"SulungT  (Go  on!)  said  he.  "I  warn  you  not  to  re- 
ceive any  one  in  your  hanca.  A  prisoner  has  just  escaped. 
If  you  capture  him  and  hand  him  over  to  me  I  will  give 
you  a  good  reward." 

"All  right,  Senor.     What  is  his  description?" 

"He  wears  a  frock  coat  and  speaks  Spanish.  With 
that  much,  be  on  the  watch !" 


262^  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

The  hanca  went  on.  Elias  turned  his  face  and  saw  the 
shadow  of  the  sentry,  still  standing  on  the  bank  of  the 
river. 

"We  will  lose  several  minutes/'  said  he,  in  a  low  voice. 
"We  will  have  to  go  up  the  Beata  river  in  order  to  carry 
out  my  pretense  of  being  from  Pena  Francia." 

The  town  was  sleeping  in  the  light  of  the  moon.  Cris- 
ostomo  arose  to  admire  the  sepulchral  peace  of  Nature. 
The  river  was  narrow  and  its  banks  formed  a  plain  planted 
with  rice. 

Elias  threw  the  load  on  the  bank,  picked  up  a  piece  of 
bamboo  and  drew  out  from  under  the  grass  in  the  bancd 
some  empty  sacks.     They  went  on  rowing. 

"You  are  master  of  your  own  will,  Senor,  and  of  your 
own  future,'^  said  he  to  Crisostomo,  who  kept  silent.  "But 
if  you  will  permit  me  to  offer  a  suggestion,  I  say  to  you: 
Look  well  at  what  you  are  going  to  do.  You  are  about  to 
start  a  war,  for  you  have  money,  talent,  and  you  will 
quickly  find  aid,  for,  unfortunately,  many  are  discontent- 
ed. Furthermore,  in  this  fight,  which  you  are  to  begin, 
those  who  are  going  to  suffer  most  are  the  defenseless,  the 
innocent.  The  same  sentiments  which  a  month  ago 
prompted  me  to  come  to  you  and  ask  for  reforms,  are 
those  which  now  move  me  to  ask  you  to  reflect.  The 
country,  Senor,  is  not  thinking  of  separating  itself  from 
the  mother  country.  It  asks  only  a  little  liberty,  a  little 
justice,  a  little  love.  The  discontented  will  assist  you, 
the  criminals  and  the  desperate,  but  the  people  will  hold 
aloof.  You  are  mistaken  if,  seeing  everything  dark,  you 
believe  that  the  country  is  desperate.  The  country  suf- 
fers, yes,  but  it  still  hopes,  believe  me,  and  will  only  rise 
in  revolt  when  it  has  lost  patience ;  that  is,  when  those  who 
govern  wish  it — ^which  is  still  far  off.  I  myself  would 
not  follow  you.  I  shall  never  take  recourse  to  these  ex- 
treme remedies  while  I  see  hope  in  men." 

"Then  I  will  go  without  you!"  replied  Crisostomo, 
resolutely. 

"Is  it  your  firm  decision  ?" 

^TTes,  my  firm  and  only  decision:  I  call  to  witness  the 
memory  of  my  father!     I  cannot  allow  them  to  deprive 


The  Pursuit  on  the  Lake.  263 

me  of  peace  and  happiness  with  impunity,  I  who  have 
desired  only  my  country's  welfare,  I  who  have  respected 
all  and  have  suffered  on  account  of  a  hypocritical  reli- 
gion, on  account  of  love  for  my  country.  How  have  they 
responded  to  me?  By  burying  me  in  an  infamous  prison 
and  by  prostituting  my  fiancee.  No,  not  to  avenge  myself 
would  be  a  crime.  It  would  be  encouraging  them  to  com- 
mit new  injustices.  No !  it  would  be  cowardice,  it  would 
be  pusillanimity  to  weep  and  groan  while  there  is  life  and 
vigor,  when  to  insult  and  challenge  are  added  scoffery 
and  contemptuous  ridicule!  I  will  arouse  this  ignorant 
people,  I  will  make  them  see  their  misery — ^this  people 
who  do  not  think  of  each  other  as  brothers,  who  are  mere 
wolves  devouring  each  other.  I  will  tell  them  to  rise 
against  this  oppression  and  appeal  to  the  eternal  right  of 
mankind  to  conquer  their  liberty!" 
"Innocent  people  will  suffer." 

"All  the  better !    Can  you  lead  me  to  the  mountain  ?" 
"Till  you  are  safe!"  replied  Elias. 
They  again  went  up  the  Pasig.    They  spoke  from  time 
to  time  of  indifferent  things. 

"Santa  Ana!"  murmured  Ibarra.  "Do  you  recognize 
that  house?" 

They  passed  by  the  country  house  of  the  Jesuits. 
"There  I  passed  many  happy  and  joyful  years !"  sighed 
Elias.  "In  my  time  we  used  to  come  here  every  month.  .  . 
then  I  was  like  the  others.  I  had  fortune,  family ;  I  was 
dreaming  and  planning  a  future  for  myself.  In  those 
days  I  used  to  visit  my  sister  in  the  neighboring  convent. 
She  made  me  a  present  of  a  piece  of  her  own  handiwork. 
A  girl  friend  used  to  accompany  her,  a  beautiful  girl.  All 
has  passed  like  a  dream." 

They  remained  silent  till  they  arrived  at  Malapad-na- 
bato.  Those  who  have  glided  over  the  bosom  of  the  Pasig 
on  one  of  those  magical  nights  when  the  moon  pours 
forth  its  melancholy  poetry  from  the  pure  blue  of  the 
sky,  when  the  darkness  hides  the  misery  of  men  and  si- 
lence drowns  the  harsh  accents  of  their  voices,  when  Na- 
ture alone  speaks — those  who  have  seen  such  nights  on  the 
Pasig  will  understand  the  feelings  which  filled  the  hearts 
of  both  young  men. 


264  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

In  Malapad-na-lfeto  the  carbineer  was  half  asleep,  and, 
seeing  that  the  hanca  was  empty  and  offered  no  booty  for 
him  to  seize,  accordirxg  to  the  traditional  custom  of  his 
corps  and  the  use  made  of  that  position,  he  readily  let 
them  pass  on. 

Nor  did  the  Civil  Guard  at  Pasig  suspect  anything,  and 
they  were  not  molested. 

It  was  just  beginning  to  dawn  when  they  reached  the 
lake,  calm  and  smooth  as  a  gigantic  mirror.  The  moon 
was  growing  dim  and  the  Orient  was  rosy  with  the  tints 
of  morning.  At  a  distance,  a  mass  of  grey  could  be  dis- 
cerned advancing  toward  the  hanca. 

"The  falua  (or  Government  steamboat)  is  coming," 
murmured  Elias.  "Lie  down  and  I  will  cover  you  with 
these  sacks." 

The  outline  of  the  vessel  became  more  clear  and  per- 
ceptible. 

"She  is  putting  in  between  the  beach  and  us,"  observed 
Elias  uneasily. 

And  then  he  changed  the  course  of  the  hanca  a  little, 
rowing  toward  Binangonan.  To  his  great  surprise  he  no- 
ticed that  the  falua  was  also  changing  its  course,  while  a 
voice  cried  out  to  him. 

Elias  stopped  and  meditated.  The  shore  of  the  lake 
was  very  far  off,  and  they  would  soon  be  in  the  range  of 
the  rifles  on  the  falua.  He  thought  of  returning  to  the 
Pasig.  His  hanca  was  swifter  than  the  falua.  But  fate 
was  against  him !  Another  boat  was  coming  up  the  Pasig, 
and  they  could  see  the  helmets  and  shining  bayonets  of 
the  Civil  Guards. 

'^e  are  caught!"  he  murmured,  turning  paTe. 

He  looked  at  his  robust  arms  and  taking  the  only  course 
which  remained  to  him,  he  began  to  row  with  all  his 
strength  toward  the  Island  of  Talim.  In  the  meantime, 
the  sun  had  risen. 

The  hanca  glided  along  rapidly.  Elias  saw  some  men 
standing  up  on  the  falua,  making  signals  to  him. 

"Do  you  know  how  to  manage  a  hanca?''  he  asked 
Ibarra. 

'^es;  why?'' 

^'Because  we  are  lost  if  I  do  not  leap  into  Hhe  waten 


The  Pursuit  on  the  Lake.  265 

and  make  them  lose  the  trail.  They  will  follow  me.  I 
swim  and  dive  well.  ...  I  will  take  them  away  from 
you,  and  then  you  can  save  yourself.^' 

"No;  you  remain  and  we  will  sell  our  lives  dearly." 

^njseless !  We  have  no  arms,  and  with  those  rifles  they 
will  kill  us  like  birds." 

At  that  moment  a  chiss  was  heard  in  the  water  like  the 
fall  of  a  hot  body,  and  was  followed  immediately  by  a 
report. 

"Do  you  see?"  said  Elias,  putting  his  paddle  in  the 
hanca.  "We  will  see  each  other  again  at  the  tomb  of  your 
grandfather  on  Nocheheuna  (Christmas  eve.)  Save  your- 
self." 

"And  you?" 

"God  has  taken  me  through  greater  dangers." 

Elias  took  off  his  camisa.  A  ball  grazed  his  hands  and 
the  report  sounded  out.  Without  being  disturbed,  he 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  Ibarra,  who  was  still  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat.  Then  he  arose  and  leaped  into  the  water, 
pushing  away  the  small  craft  with  his  foot. 

A  number  of  cries  were  heard.  Soon  at  some  distance 
the  head  of  the  young  man  appeared  above  the  water 
as  if  to  get  breath,  dropping  out  of  sight  at  the  next  in- 
stant. 

"There,  there  he  is !"  cried  a  number  of  voices,  and  the 
balls  from  their  rifles  whistled  again.  , 

The  falua  and  the  other  hanca  took  up  the  chase.  A 
light  track  of  foam  marked  his  course,  every  moment 
leading  farther  and  farther  away  from  Ibarra's  hanca, 
which  drifted  along  as  if  abandoned.  Every  time  that 
the  swimmer  raised  his  head  to  breathe  the  Civil  Guards 
and  the  men  on  board  the  falua  discharged  their  guns  at 
him. 

The  pursuit  continued.  Ibarra's  little  hanca  was  al- 
ready far  off.  The  swimmer  was  approaching  the  shore 
of  the  lake  and  was  now  some  fifty  yards  distant  from  it. 
The  rowers  were  already  tired,  but  Elias  was  not,  for  his 
head  often  appeared  above  the  water  and  each  time  in  a 
different  direction  so  as  to  disconcert  his  pursuers.  No 
longer  was  there  a  light  trail  to  betray  the  course  of  the 
diver.     For  the  last  time  they  saw  him  near  the  shore, 


266  Friars  and  Filipinos* 

some  ten  yarcls  off,  and  they  opened  fire.  .  .  .  TEen  mimites 
and  minutes  passed.  Nothing  appeared  again  on  the 
tranquil  surface  of  the  lake. 

Half  an  hour  afterward  one  of  the  rowers  pretended  to 
have  discovered  signs  of  blood  in  the  water  near  the  shore, 
but  his  companions  shook  their  heads  in  a  manner  which 
might  mean  either  yes  or  no. 


Father  Damaso  Explains.  267 


CHAPTEE  XLL 

FATHER  DAMASO   EXPLAINS. 

In"  vain  the  costly  wedding  gifts  were  heaped  upon  the 
table.  Neither  the  diamonds  in  their  blue  velvet  caskets, 
nor  the  embroidered  pina,  nor  the  pieces  of  silk  had  any 
attractions  for  Maria  Clara.  The  maiden  looked  at  the 
paper  which  gave  the  account  of  Ibarra's  death,  drowned 
in  the  lake,  but  she  neither  saw  nor  read  it. 

Of  a  sudden,  she  felt  two  hands  over  her  eyes.  They 
held  her  fast  while  a  joyous  voice,  Father  Ddmaso's,  said 
to  her: 

"Who  am  I?    Who  am  I?'' 

Maria  Clara  jumped  from  her  seat  and  looked  at  him 
with  terror  in  her  eyes. 

"You  little  goose,  were  you  frightened,  eh?  You  were 
not  expecting  me?  Well,  I  have  come  from  the  prov- 
inces to  attend  your  wedding.^' 

And  coming  up  to  her  again  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction, 
he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  her.  Maria  Clara  approached 
timidly  and,  raising  it  to  her  lips,  kissed  it. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Maria  ?"  asked  the  Fran- 
ciscan, losing  his  gay  smile,  and  becoming  very  uneasy. 
"Your  hand  is  cold,  you  are  pale.  .  .  Are  you  ill,  my  little 
girl  ?" 

And  Father  Damaso  drew  her  up  to  him  with  a  fondness 
of  which  no  one  would  have  thought  him  capable.  He 
grasped  both  the  maiden's  hands  and  gave  her  a  ques- 
tioning look. 

"Haven't  you  any  confidence  in  your  godfather?"  he 
asked  in  a  reproachful  tone.  "Come,  sit  down  here  and 
tell  me  your  little  troubles,  just  as  you  used  to  do  when 
you  were  a  child,  when  you  wanted  wax-candles  to  make 
wax  figures.  You  surely  know  that  I  have  always  loved 
you.  .  .  I  have  never  scolded  you.  .  .  " 

Father  Damaso's  voice  ceased  to  be  brusque;  its  modu' 


268  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

lations  were  even  caressing.    Maria  Clara  began  to  weep. 

"Are  yon  weeping,  my  child?  Why  are  you  weeping? 
Have  you  quarrelled  with  Linares  ?" 

Maria  Clara  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands. 

"No !    It  is  not  he  now !"  cried  the  maiden. 

Father  Damaso  looked  at  her  full  of  surprise. 

"Do  you  not  want  to  entrust  your  secrets  to  me  ?  Have 
I  not  always  managed  to  satisfy  your  smallest  caprices?" 

The  young  woman  raised  her  eyes  full  of  tears  toward 
him.  She  looked  at  him  for  some  time,  and  then  began 
to  weep  bitterly. 

"Do  not  cry  so,  my  child,  for  your  tears  pain  me !  Tell 
me  your  troubles.  You  will  see  how  your  godfather  loves 
you.'' 

Maria  Clara  approached  him  slowly  and  fell  on  her 
knees  at  his  feet.  Then  raising  her  face,  bathed  in  tears, 
she  said  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  scarcely  audible: 

"Do  you  still  love  me?'' 

"Child!" 

"Then.  .  .  protect  my  father  and  break  off  the  mar- 
riage !" 

Then  she  related  her  last  interview  with  Ibarra,  omit- 
ting the  reference  to  her  birih. 

Father  Damaso  could  scarcely  believe  what  he  heard. 

"While  he  lived,"  continued  the  maiden,  "I  intended 
to  fight,  to  wait,  to  trust.  I  wanted  to  live  to  hear  him 
spoken  of.  .  .  but  now  that  they  have  killed  him,  now 
there  is  no  reason  for  my  living  and  suffering." 

She  said  this  slowly,  in  a  low  voice,  calmly  and  without 
a  tear. 

"But,  you  goose;  isn't  Linares  a  thousand  times  bet- 
ter than.  .  .   ?" 

"When  he  was  living,  I  could  have  married.  .  .  I  was 
thinking  of  fleeing  afterward.  .  .  my  father  wanted 
nothing  more  than  the  relative.  N"ow  that  he  is  dead, 
no  other  man  will  call  me  his  wife.  .  .  While  he  lived, 
I  could  have  debased  myself  and  still  had  the  consolation 
of  knowing  that  he  existed  and  perhaps  was  thinking  of 
me.  Now  that  he  is  dead.  .  .  the  convent  or  the  tomb.'* 
Her  voice  had  a  firmness  in  its  accent  which  took  away 
Father  Damaso's  joy  and  set  him  to  thinking. 


Father  Damaso  Explains.  269 

'^id  you  love  him  so  much  as  that?"  he  asked,  stam- 
mering. 

Maria  Clara  did  not  reply.  Father  Damaso  bowed  his 
head  upon  his  breast  and  remained  silent. 

"My  child  I"  he  exclaimed,  his  voice  breaking.  "Forgive 
me  for  making  you  unhappy  without  knowing  it.  I  was 
thinking  of  your  future ;  I  wanted  you  to  be  happy.  How 
could  I  permit  you  to  marry  a  native;  how  could  I  see 
you  an  imhappy  wife  and  a  miserable  mother  ?  I  could  not 
get  your  love  out  of  your  head,  and  I  opposed  it  with  all 
my  strength.  All  that  I  have  done  has  been  for  you,  for 
you  alone.  If  you  had  become  his  wife,  you  would  have 
wept  afterward  on  account  of  the  condition  of  your  hus- 
band, exposed  to  all  kinds  of  vengeance,  without  any 
means  of  defense.  As  a  mother,  you  would  have  wept 
over  the  fortune  of  your  sons;  if  you  educated  them,  you 
would  prepare  a  sad  future  for  them,  you  would  have 
made  them  enemies  of  the  Church  and  would  have  seen 
them  hanged  or  exiled;  if  you  left  them  ignorant,  you 
would  have  seen  them  oppressed  and  degraded.  I  could 
not  consent  to  it !  This  is  why  I  sought  as  a  husband  for 
you  one  who  might  make  you  the  happy  mother  of  sons 
bom  not  to  obey  but  to  command,  not  to  suffer  but  to  pun- 
ish. I  knew  that  your  friend  was  good  from  infancy.  I 
liked  him  as  I  had  liked  his  father,  but  I  hated  them  both 
when  I  saw  that  they  were  going  to  make  you  unhappy, 
because  I  love  you,  I  idolize  you,  I  love  you  as  my  daugh- 
ter. I  have  nothing  dearer  than  you.  I  have  seen  you 
grow.  No  hour  passes  but  I  think  of  you ;  I  dream  of  you ; 
you  are  my  only  joy." 

And  Father  Damaso  began  to  weep  like  a  child. 

"Well,  then,  if  you  love  me  do  not  make  me  eternally 
unhappy.    He  no  longer  lives ;  I  want  to  be  a  nun." 

The  old  man  rested  his  head  on  his  hand. 

"To  be  a  nun,  to  be  a  nun !"  he  repeated.  "You  do  not 
know,  my  child,  the  life,  the  misery,  which  is  hidden  be- 
hind the  walls  of  the  convent.  You  do  not  know  it!  I 
prefer  a  thousand  times  to  see  you  unhappy  in  the  world 
than  to  see  you  unhappy  in  the  cloister.  Here  your  com- 
plaints can  be  heard,  there  you  will  have  only  the  walls. 
You  are  beautiful,  very  beautiful,  and  you  were  not  bom 


270  Friars  and  Filipinos. 

for  it,  you  were  not  bom  to  be  the  bride  of  Christ!  Be- 
lieve me,  my  child,  time  will  blot  it  all  out.  Later  you 
will  forget,  you  will  love  your  husband.  .  .  Linares.^' 

"Either  the  convent  or  ...  .  death!"  repeated  Maria 
Clara. 

"The  convent,  the  convent  or  death !"  exclaimed  Father 
Damaso.  "Maria,  I  am  already  old,  I  will  not  be  able  to 
watch  you  or  your  happiness  much  longer.  .  .  Choose  an- 
other course,  seek  another  love,  another  young  man,  who- 
ever he  may  be,  but  not  the  convent." 

"The  convent  or  death  1" 

"My  God,  my  God  V  cried  the  priest,  covering  his  head 
with  his  hands.  "Thou  punisheth  me.  So  be  it!  But 
watch  over  my  child." 

And  turning  to  the  young  woman:  "You  want  to  be 
a  nun?    You  shall  be  one.    I  do  not  want  you  to  die." 

Maria  Clara  took  his  two  hands,  clasped  them  in  her 
own  and  kissed  them  as  she  knelt. 

"Godfather,  my  godfather!"  she  repeated. 

Immediately,  Father  Damaso  went  out,  sad,  with  droop- 
ing head  and  sighing. 

"God,  0  God!  Thou  existeth,  for  Thou  punisheth. 
But  avenge  Thyself  on  me  and  do  not  harm  the  innocent. 
Save  my  child!" 


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